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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29892603">Heart of Glass</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/elar3716/pseuds/elar3716'>elar3716</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Voltron: Legendary Defender</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Accidental Voyeurism, Age Difference, Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Anxiety, Background Relationships, Bisexual Character, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Bottom Lance (Voltron), But Hopefully I Did It Right?, Car Sex, Cheating, Don't Know How To Rate It To Be Honest, Drinking, Drug Use, Drugs, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Gay Character, Gay Keith (Voltron), How Do I Tag, I Don't Know The Difference And I'm Sorry, I Guess That's Not A Tag?, Kissing, M/M, Marijuana, Masturbation, Missing Persons, Money, Nervousness, Oral Sex, Other, Public Blow Jobs, Public Sex, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, Running Away, Semi-Public Sex, Sex, Sugar Baby Keith (Voltron), Switch Keith (Voltron), Tongues, Touching, Voyeurism, Why Did I Write This?, Window Sex</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 17:35:08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>24,395</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29892603</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/elar3716/pseuds/elar3716</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In this AU, Lance decides to leave his family behind and be on his own. Well, not entirely on his own. He meets a mysterious roommate online, and despite all the red flags, he goes anyway. But his cold, blunt roommate has more secrets than Lance would've ever known. He finds himself being sucked into Keith's mysteries and liking him more than just a roommate.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Keith &amp; Lance (Voltron), Keith/Lance (Voltron)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>63</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Keith, You're Weird</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Keith has to finish something before Lance moves in.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It wasn't like grades was something Keith had to worry about if he was being honest. He stayed on top of his new coursework, keeping somewhere in the nineties in his percentages. But of course, all of those were online classes, so they were much easier for someone like Keith than in-person. </p><p>Except he had one particular class that was in-person... <em>and he hated it. </em> </p><p>But, he couldn't hate it as much when he had his professor bent over their desk with his lustful groans reverberating off the lecture halls walls. </p><p>Taking advantage of office hours was encouraged to Keith after all. All he wanted to do was to start his first college semester off in peace, and he sincerely didn't even think that his professor would ever be interested in him in the slightest. He'd had heard stories in high school, some students fucking the teachers to get a better grade, but that wasn't the case for Keith at all, surprisingly. </p><p>He was just fucking him because he wanted him to. He didn't seem to have any reason to refuse. He was clean, younger than most, and even had a nice face. He also had a pretty obvious crush on Keith on the very first day he saw him. Keith knew, how could he not? With the way, the man eyed him, constantly, as he blankly stared at the demonstrations he would make. Most would think it was creepy, but with this particular professor, he didn't make it feel that way at all. They were small looks...</p><p>It was more - how should Keith put it? Cute? Shy? He was a timid instructor for sure, especially around Keith. But all around, he seemed like a good fellow. So how did a professor-student relationship develop? </p><p>Well, it happened that day during office hours. Keith had plenty of questions to ask about the upcoming end-of-semester project that he was assigned. He expected it to be awkward, which... it wasn't. Not really. It was more of a tension that he couldn't describe. Not uncomfortable, but not completely comfortable. Not sensual, but not barren of that kind of mood. </p><p>A contradictory situation, perhaps. </p><p>But it was especially surprising to the instructor when Keith just blatantly asked, without even thinking, "Do you wanna fuck?" </p><p>Now, most students would probably get expulsion for breaking the student code of conduct or whatever the hell they called it, but Keith's instincts weren't wrong. He knew that feeling, as contradictory as it was, he knew what it meant. </p><p>It was his job after all. </p><p>And what did he know? He said yes. </p><p><em> "Ah-! </em> Agh, Keith!" he called, gripping the edge of the desk like it was going to flip over if he didn't. Said student didn't think he was being too rough with him, but he slowed his pace anyway, sensing the need for him to gather himself just a bit. </p><p>His hips were already sore. No matter how much he did what he did, there was no way for his body to get used to the way it just tenses up in response to such pleasure. It was desperate for more, every single time, chasing its orgasm like that was the goal. </p><p>But, if Keith could control it, he would say that the goal of sex wasn't to come as quickly as possible, as pleasureful as it was. He liked slow-loving as well, nice and deep, just enjoying the fuck for as long as possible. Or, teasing his lovers with his cock, the blunt tip just barely brushing against where they wanted him to be in their clenching-tight grip. He would continue until they begged for it until they were a complete and utter mess of incoherent mumbles and pleads. </p><p>His professor was close to that description, his button-up shirt ripped open and pulled down to his elbows. It revealed the sensitive skin of his neck and shoulders, already covered in bright pink bite marks and hickeys from Keith's ministrations. Keith, who was buried inside of him to the hilt. He was sweating from the exertion over the past hour, their designated time together already over. It wasn't like it mattered though. Surprisingly, no one was lined outside the door to meet the charming, young instructor.</p><p>Not that Keith would've minded anyone listening in, or probably even witnessing what he was doing. </p><p> </p><p>He didn't care about much anymore. </p><p> </p><p>"Close?" Keith breathily asked, picking up his relentless pace once again. The pit of his stomach was hot, growing hotter, sorer as his core clenched from the force of keeping his stamina for as long as he could. He always wanted the receiving partner to finish first. </p><p>God, he was so glad he always had condoms and lube in his backpack for "special situations." The professor wasn't a paying man like most of Keith's boyfriends, completely new ground. But since Keith hadn't gone out with any of them for a while, he didn't mind getting one good fuck before any of them reached out for something. </p><p>That was one of the good parts about Keith. He wasn't clingy. He never begged. He never scammed or tricked. Keith was just Keith. If they needed him, then he'd come (yes – cum), and if they didn't then it would be fine too. </p><p>"Yes, I– I can't–" he stuttered out from the jumbled mess of words he was mumbling to himself. "So good... I-I's just so good..."</p><p>"I know, I know..." Keith grunted, reaching around to grasp the instructor's hard, neglected cock. "I want you to come," he said, right next to his ear, "I want you to make a mess on your own desk. And afterward, you know what I want you to do?" </p><p>He could hear, his hips squirming as he was nearing his release. He was begging him to go on, begging him to give him <em>something </em>other than the ruthless teasing. So Keith would continue...</p><p>"Like the slut you are... I want you to clean up your own mess. Hands and knees and all..." Keith said darkly, "So why don't you do it, baby? Come for me." </p><p>On command, he did. Hot, thick ropes of come practically painting the wooden desk, just like Keith intended. But he didn't have much time to play left, his lust-filled gaze falling onto the clock on the wall. </p><p>He had a roommate to prepare for after all.</p><hr/><p>It was too much. </p><p>Everything was just too much. </p><p>Family for Lance was something he appreciated, something he genuinely loved. He always recognized family as being something important. Important because they would love and be there for him no matter what. Family for Lance was something inseparable. </p><p>But being eighteen and eager to get his life started was something much more powerful. </p><p>His mother was screaming curses at him from the front porch, a blend of both Spanish and English from what he could hear through the blood pumping through his ears.</p><p>It was all planned. Lance wanted it for the longest time, to run from it all. "All" didn't mean there was any horrible cause for him to flee in the middle of the night. He stood by his opinion on his family; they genuinely loved him. They never hurt him in any way, or at least, not intentionally. They would apologize, even if most of the time it felt forced. </p><p>He just felt ready. </p><p>Ready to let go of the pressure, the emotions, and the bond. Only for a short time. He wrote a letter beforehand for his mother, but it seemed like she read it a little earlier than planned. </p><p>And she clearly wasn't taking it well. </p><p>Lance shoved his final bag into the back seat, hoping to God that he didn't forget anything. He didn't want to come back until... well, until his mother's fumes would settle. </p><p>
  <em> Bam!  </em>
</p><p>The boy flinched as one of her sneakers hit the top of his sloppy jalopy of a car. But Lance wasn't entirely worried.</p><p>It had been through worse. </p><p>He rushed himself into the driver seat, his mother finally stomping onto the ground. It was like a locomotive train coming towards him, coming in fast with the steam blowing out and all. </p><p>"Jesus," Lance muttered in a fit of panic. He struggled to get his fucking keys out of his pockets and then finally jammed them in. </p><p>Except for his piece of shit car that he loved wouldn't start. </p><p>"Come on, come on..."</p><p>The train was at his door, but thankfully he remembered to lock in his adrenalin-high state. He was surprised that the old car's handle didn't rip off from the absolute force of his mother's strength. </p><p><em> "Lance!"  </em>she screamed. </p><p>And finally- </p><p>
  <em> Vrooooom! </em>
</p><p>Like a cat waking up from its nap, it let out a nice drawn-out purr. Lance immediately shifted gears and backed out of the driveway as fast as possible. Honestly, it wasn't safe to not check both mirrors, but he saw that he was dead either way. Lance gave one last glance at his mother. </p><p>She looked like she gave up on running after him, but she was still screaming. </p><p>Did she not read the letter? He gave an entire rundown on his itinerary down to the exact dates. Regardless, his heart still broke. He would miss his family, but it was for the best. </p><p>He needed to grow up. </p><p>He shifted gears once more and turned the wheel, making his way down his street. </p><p>Making his way on his own. </p><hr/><p>So... it was a six-hour drive. </p><p>That wasn't so bad since Lance had been on longer trips with his family. And the fact that it was night didn't bother him either. He was a night owl, not that he preferred that. He just wasn't sleeping as well as he used to, but at least it granted him a peaceful night drive. </p><p>When he first got his license, which wasn't so long ago, he was afraid of driving. It scared the crap out of him even in the daytime, especially when driving such a beat-up-looking car. </p><p>But, it wasn't so bad. </p><p>When he got the hang of it, the realization that he could go <em>anywhere </em>he wanted grew. Well, he wasn't able to go anywhere, not without telling his mother. </p><p>Yes. Lance took out a car loan himself, got the car himself, got the gas himself, but couldn't go anywhere without telling her. </p><p>Did it annoy him? </p><p>Yes. </p><p>But would he miss it? </p><p>Yes... </p><p>His getaway plan was something he worked towards every day, aside from college work. Lance was dead-set on finding a roommate. His first and most obvious choice; his two closest friends, Hunk and Pidge. But, they were across the US, which was expensive. He wasn't going to ask his two other college-going friends if they could pay for the trip either. </p><p>That was when he settled on just leaving, not nearby, but not too close either. And after numerous phone calls and facetime meetings with random strangers, he finally decided on someone he could trust... somewhat. </p><p>Don't get him wrong. He knew that he didn't <em>actually </em>know the person. He also knew that moving at least two states away from his family wasn't safe, but the guy he decided on was... </p><p>He didn't know how to describe it. </p><p>His name was Keith Kogane. He was also eighteen, which Lance thought was strange. Wasn't he a little young to have an apartment? He was the youngest on the site too. When Lance was browsing, everyone was at least in their twenties. </p><p>Another strange thing; he could only make and take phone calls since he was always busy at work or school. He also didn't have a profile picture, only pictures of the apartment. </p><p>Okay, and Lance was about to give up on him, honest. </p><p>But... just something about him. Despite all those things, he sounded pretty honest about everything. He gave direct answers to every question Lance asked and didn't beat around the bush about his lifestyle. </p><p>Keith didn't seem like the "friendly type," though. He never sounded like he had any interest in Lance aside from the common questions. It didn't bother the boy since he was only looking for a place to stay. </p><p>He wasn't looking for a friend... Even though it would be nice. </p><p>But what ultimately made Lance agree to stay with him? </p><p>He wouldn't be able to answer. Perhaps impulse? He knew the consequences of what he was doing, and he would have to pay for the outcome. But his instincts were telling him that he was going to be okay.</p><hr/><p>The "apartment" building wasn't how he pictured it in his head. </p><p>It was around five o'clock in the morning, and he was exhausted. He blinked blearily up at the structure that was surrounded by others, practically hiding it. He spent at least twenty minutes trying to find the place, going through alleyways, and reversing all the same. </p><p>No wonder the description said that it had some security, he couldn't even find it! No one would ever stumble across the door of an abandoned-looking building hidden behind a tall barbed-wire fence.</p><p>Yeah... </p><p>He was leaving. It was terrifying! The sun hadn't even come up, and it was pouring down rain with lightning, thunder, and everything. Perfect ambiance for a horror movie, if you asked Lance. </p><p>Instincts really retracted once they saw how wrong they were, geez. </p><p>As soon as he reached for the key- </p><p>
  <em> Knock! Knock! </em>
</p><p>"Oh, my- fucking-!"</p><p>Lance couldn't even describe the sheer jumpstart he felt in his heart. He was <em>wide </em>awake at that point and scared to death. His hand flew immediately to his chest, worried from dying from a heart attack so young. A sense of dread soon replaced the worry as he whipped his head to the window, a hooded figure standing right outside with fingerless gloves covering the fist that knocked. </p><p>Fuck no!</p><p>He was leaving!</p><p>
  <em> Bing! </em>
</p><p><em> "Goddamit!"  </em>he yelled again, more frustrated than anything as his sense of flight was being distracted. It was his fucking phone, the brightness blinding him for only a second before he saw a glimpse of the text. </p><p><em> "It's me," </em> it read. </p><p>Nope. Nope, nope, nope, he was gone. But the guy moved around to the front of the car before he could step on it. </p><p>In all honesty, he was about to floor it anyway. But the guy was waving around something bright in his hand, a phone. </p><p>He even removed his hood to reveal his face and began yelling, "I'm Keith!" He had both his hands up like he was at gunpoint or something.</p><p>"What...?" Lance asked, snatching his phone and turning it back on. He read the text once more and then the sender of the text. </p><p>Keith Kogane.</p><hr/><p>He opened the gate for Lance, hair, and clothes drenched from the rain, not even bothering to pull up his hood. </p><p>Lance felt so bad... But at the same time, why would he walk up on someone in their car like that?! And why didn't he explain that he lived in the scariest looking building ever?! Inside was pretty decent, but the outside was something completely different. Was he getting scammed? He still couldn't trust the guy, even when he looked so tired and soaked in cold rainwater. </p><p>Keith guided him over to the garage of the old building, opening that as well. As soon as Lance parked, he gave out a long sigh. </p><p>"What the fuck am I doing?" he asked himself. </p><p>Was this how it was going to end? </p><p>All because he couldn't deal with his family anymore, which sounded so selfish in his head. Either way, the adrenalin he felt prior was wearing off, and he was beginning not to care.  </p><p>He got out of his car, shutting the door behind him. He finally turned to the guy who was causing him so much terror so early in the morning. Keith wasn't even looking at him as he was physically shutting the heavy garage door with a few grunts. Rain muffled by the shelter, Lance could finally focus on his face. </p><p>And even looking the way he did... Lance could say that he was pretty handsome. He had a scar on his jawline, which didn't bother Lance at all. In fact, it made him look even more handsome, what the f-</p><p>"Sorry for scaring you," he said, latching the lock into place. </p><p>God, his raspy voice was even better in person, despite it being monotone. </p><p>He continued as he stood up, "I kept texting you about what the place looked like. It was my bad for not clarifying that with you earlier. Forgot." Keith opened the back seat door and began taking the bags he could see. He brushed past the boy, still not even giving a glance to him. "I'll show you to your room."</p><p>Keith disappeared behind the door of the gigantic garage. The room only had some boxes and plenty of worn workout equipment. </p><p>Lance was confused because... from the looks of it, the entire building was Keith's. Sure, it was only one floor, from what Lance could gather, but it was still pretty <em>huge.  </em>And he said that he didn't have any other roommates.</p><p>All the boy could do was shake his head from his thoughts. He gathered the rest of his stuff and followed him. He was at the point where he just needed a shower and some sleep, and he would be prepared to unpack later. </p><p>He walked through the door and was immediately shocked to see a dog. Lance figured he would've heard them barking or something, but they were just chilling. Maybe they were used to visitors? They acknowledged him, sniffing his shoes a bit before returning to his laying position. </p><p>Again... Keith didn't mention any pets. Was he forgetful or something? </p><p>But the boy didn't mind the doggo. He couldn't resist as he set down one box to run a hand through the silky fur of the wolf, who didn't seem to mind at all. </p><p>"Hi..." he said, scratching behind his ear a bit. </p><p>Heavy footsteps above him brought him back to where he was. Lance looked up, astonished at the height of the ceiling and how big the windows were. Not only that but how spacious the place was. The kitchen, the living room, and the entranceway were all connected. None were separated. They were <em>open.  </em></p><p>Above them, Lance could only assume that there really was a second floor. He took off his shoes, set them neatly next to Keith's, and ventured even further, taking in everything around him. It was clean but clean in a way that nothing looked used. Everything looked brand new. The decorations and furniture were sparse, which only added to the illusion. </p><p>But overall, he liked it. A lot. Not that he had a choice, but he was glad he picked Keith. At least, for then, since he didn't live with the guy yet. He knew that he wouldn't know who someone really was until he lived with them. </p><p>He looked behind him, amazed at the loft above. He made his way upstairs, and it was the same vibe. Except there was only one bedroom...</p><p>"You're over here," Keith called from down the hall, a latter at the end. </p><p>The attic? </p><p>Keith helped him get his stuff up, and then Lance finally made the way up even further. </p><p>Below, the windows were huge, but they were facing brick walls from the surrounding buildings, but the attic... it had a view of the city before him, just through the narrow view from where he came in. The room was just like the pictures he saw, a single bed in the middle of the room and nothing else. </p><p>It was what he wanted, but he didn't expect the "apartment" to be one big building. The pictures didn't do the place any justice. </p><p>The rain was louder, but Lance liked it. It was comforting. </p><p>"Um... I know you have to climb like two floors, and then climb down to use the bathroom..." he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "And it can get cold, but the heater's kicking in. But, if you don't like it, I can switch with you, or if you changed your mind, then that's fine too."</p><p>"No... I really like it. Everything," Lance confirmed. "But, how come there was some stuff left out?"</p><p>"Left out?" </p><p>"Yeah... Like the dog?"</p><p>"You don't like pets?" </p><p>"N-no! I like them, and he was really sweet. It's just, usually, people would include that. And... and also the fact that this isn't an apartment building."</p><p>"But it is."</p><p>"What?" </p><p>"Yeah. This building has only two apartments though. It's kind of new." </p><p>"Oh... Then, if you don't mind me asking... How did you get this place? Like, did you have a roommate before? Most people were older than you."</p><p>Keith smiled, leaning against the brick wall. "And you wanted to know why I left stuff out. Even when you didn't ask all these questions before," he said. </p><p>...That was true, but Lance didn't know! He was just curious.</p><p>Keith continued, "I guess I was given it... But I thought getting a roommate to help pay the rent would help. I have the space for it anyway." </p><p>"So... You're on the lease? Just you?" </p><p>"Yeah... I'm the only one living here. I did make sure to include at least that, didn't I?" he asked, making his way to the latter. "You'll be on there too if you decide."</p><p>"W-wait!" </p><p> Keith paused, finally looking directly at Lance. Geez, those eyes were intense. If the boy could describe them, it would be "let me sleep, or I'm kicking you out."</p><p>"Uh... I only know what you're studying. But, where do you work? I mean, to have all this is crazy for a college student." </p><p>"Don't worry about it. Good night." </p><p>And that was the end of the conversation, period. Keith slid down the latter as fast as possible and made his way to his room. Not even a few moments later, Lance could hear the faucet of the shower running. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The Only Normal Thing is the Dog</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Doggo.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was bright. It was so very, very bright. </p><p>
  <em> Noon.  </em>
</p><p>Lance was just barely motivated to get up and unpack, mostly because the mattress was the best thing he had ever slept on. But he groaned and reluctantly removed his blankets, letting the cold air assault his warm body. Even at noon, when the sun was at its highest point, it was cold. </p><p>He got up, dug through his bag for clothes, and began to unpack. That is, until he realized that there was nowhere to put his shit.</p><p>His closet was bare, no hangars.</p><p>Shopping... </p><p>With money, Lance wasn't entirely hopeless. He babysat the kids of his entire neighborhood whenever he could, which paid pretty well. Not only that, but he also worked a part-time job as a personal shopper for those families. They would pay him to watch their kids <em>and </em>get their groceries and household goods for them. It was a lot to deal with, especially with school weighing the heaviest on his shoulders, but it was good money that he saved just for the move he planned. </p><p>That brought up another thing he had to do that day. </p><p>Find a job. </p><p> </p><p>Lance climbed down to the loft, passing by Keith's room again, only to find that it looked the same as when he last saw it. Bed still made, neatly Lance might've added, which sent shivers down his spine. He assumed that he made his bed like that only cause he had new company... </p><p>Lance ventured further downstairs to find that no one was home, not even in the garage. The only living thing that he could call his friend in his new home was the wolf, who happily trotted on over to him as he searched the cabinets for some coffee. </p><p>Luckily, Keith had a large stash of some good quality coffee, the expensive stuff, even a top-tier coffee maker to boot. He started his cup and squatted down.</p><p>"Hey, buddy," he greeted, giving him more of his signature scratches behind the ear. "Did Keith already feed you?" </p><p>He was really asking himself the question, glancing over to see his bowl, half-way eaten. "I see..." The doggo remained no-name with no collar around his neck to determine it and nothing on his bowls.</p><p>Reluctantly, he stopped the pets so he could search for some sugar or cream in the cabinets. All of which were occupied by bowls, plates, and cups or nothing at all. He checked in the fridge for liquid cream. And... to his surprise, there was nothing. </p><p>Not just no cream, but literally <em>nothing in the fridge. </em>Another chill ran through Lance's body, and not from the cold refrigerator. </p><p>"So... Your owner has dog food, tap water, and coffee. And that's it..." </p><p>The dog whined a little, licking Lance's hand as if to offer some sort of comfort for his disappointment. "It's okay, boy. I gotta do some shopping anyway." </p><p>He downed the bitter drink, trying not to cringe at the strength of it. </p><hr/><p>Bless the location of the place. Lance was glad that he didn't have to pry open the heavy garage door to get to the nearest store. It was actually a nice walk, especially on a nice fall day with the trees lining the streets gracing beautiful golden browns and reds. </p><p>The boy liked fall, particularly the weather that came with it. He even enjoyed the rain at times. The steady pounding of it with nothing else mixed in put him right to sleep. </p><p>Lance was beginning to like the place even more. </p><p>He finally walked into the nearest store, his list already in his phone and hand sanitizer ready. </p><p>Shopping was something Lance was used to. He had an inkling of where everything was in the store. But... he could tell that people didn't recognize him. As in, they stared. Only when he wasn't looking, but it was pretty uncomfortable. </p><p>Was there something on his face? Was his makeup messed up? <br/><br/>Lance thought he would've felt better about looking the best he could, at least after going to sleep at six in the morning. But despite the outfit and the subtle makeup he wore, he didn't think people were staring because they thought he was good-looking. </p><p>It was strange because he thought there would've been less staring in the city. In his hometown, it was common to be curious about newbies and whatnot, but even they weren't as obvious. </p><p>Still, he tried to ignore it and get on with his task. </p><p>The stuff he picked would've lasted him a solid week, both of his reusable bags filled to the brim. He waited in line at checkout, trying to ignore the person in front of him, giving him constant glances. </p><p>The cashier looked to be the only one unaffected by Lance's presence.</p><p>"You new?" he asked, smiling at him knowingly.</p><p>"Yeah... Was it that obvious?" </p><p>"Heh, don't worry about it. It's just the way people act here. I thought it was weird too," he explained, pushing up his glasses in the middle of ringing Lance's stuff up. </p><p>"You're not from here?"</p><p>"Nope. I moved here for college originally. I already graduated though so I'm just looking for a better job." </p><p>"You must like it here then. If you want to stay, I mean." Lance began grabbing his things and stuffing them as neatly as possible into his bags. </p><p>"Oh, yeah. It's a cool city. It's not big or anything like New York, Miami, or Los Angeles, which is why I think I like it. Not that those places weren't great either, it's just... this place is different," he said. "That'll be one-thirty-five. Debit or credit?"</p><p>"Uh, debit. Is there a way, um, if you know, to make more friends here?" </p><p>"Hmm... Unless you have something that forces you to have that, like school or a job here, then not really. But that doesn't mean you can't walk up to someone and have a good conversation with them, like now. You're pretty good at it anyway." </p><p>He handed him the receipt and smiled once again, genuinely. </p><p>"Thank you, um..." Lance glanced at the name tag on his vest. "Adam. Thank you for everything." </p><p>"No problem. If I'm still working here, I'll see you later." </p><p>"I hope everything works out for you." </p><p>"Thanks, Lance. You too." </p><p>The boy turned and made his way out of the store, but only to stop abruptly in his tracks. He jostled his stuff out from the inertia. There was this jarring recognition that hit him as soon as he left. </p><p> </p><p>"How did he know my name?"</p><hr/><p>The walk back was Lance thinking the entire time. He nearly got ran over by a few bicyclists on his way back home.</p><p>It was just... he didn't think the city would be so strange. </p><p>He opened the front door, the wolf already pawing at his legs which was a comforting welcome home. He wondered why his family never got a pet before because it was so refreshing. But then again, Keith still didn't go over with him the list of shared chores. He wondered what he preferred to do... or if he was one of <em>those </em>roommates. The ones that didn't contribute to anything. </p><p>But Keith... didn't seem like that. From the looks of it, everything was spick and span. </p><p>"Hey, buddy," Lance said, shutting the door and locking it. "I bought some more treats for you." </p><p>The wolf must've known what that word was because his ears immediately perked up in response. </p><p>He knew that he would have to go back out or search online for a part-time job. Lance paid a decent chunk of his savings, which he would have to record later on. But first, groceries needed to be put away, and clothes needed to hang. Not only that, but he had some online work to do, so it was a busy day. </p><p>And no sign of Keith for the entirety of it... </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> "...Anyone can cook..." </em>
</p><p>"You hear that, buddy? Anyone can cook!" Lance said, trying his absolute best at a French accent. The doggo just stared at him while he opened the oven to reveal his delicious cuisine of frozen pizza.</p><p>Ahh, yes. The aroma was pleasant, but the taste?</p><p>Lance didn't particularly like it, but it filled him up adequately enough. </p><p>He understood that he bought groceries and all, but after a long day of searching for jobs on the internet, he just wanted something easy. Besides, it also meant that he was saving an extra day of actual good cooking and ingredients. </p><p>There wasn't much online that pertained to jobs that had good time where he lived. It only brought up places like fast-food joints, department stores, grocery stores, etcetera. Those places weren't bad choices or anything. It was finding something that would work with his school schedule that was the tricky part.</p><p>He knew that if he got a job, he would be able to quit almost immediately. But he wanted to have a good, stable pick. A job that would help pay for groceries, personal items, his car loan, gas... and college. </p><p>Lance sighed. He missed high school. Though, definitely not for puberty, horrible teenagers, and the work of it all. He missed his friends, Hunk and Pidge. Both of them were pretty smart, looking for college's the minute they stepped foot on high school grounds. As for Lance, he didn't know... Or he just didn't want to know. A big part of him wanted to live his life the way he wanted. He wanted to make mistakes, and he wanted to be responsible for them.</p><p>It was his own path, after all. </p><p>He blew a little on the partially burnt pizza, staring at the screen as the movie played on. </p><p>Ahh, yes. The taste of pure hard work.</p><hr/><p>
  <em> "You baby him too much..." </em>
</p><p>His father was sitting in the chair, right in the middle of the basement. He was talking to Lance's mom, who wasn't present in the room. But he thought she was... It summed up Lance's father and what he remembered of him as a kid. </p><p>The basement was cold and smelled of alcohol. It was also a silent place. Nothing from the outside could pierce through the ground and brick that made up his dad's dwelling. </p><p>It was uncomfortable. Lance liked the sounds of wind and rain. Even sounds of neighbors from time to time. So being in the basement was something he always avoided. But on that particular day, something felt like he was supposed to be down there. </p><p>His instincts? </p><p>Lance wasn't sure why he even followed them anymore, considering they took him to the worst places at the worst times possible. But it felt <em>right. </em></p><p>As a kid, he wondered, how could something feel right and lead to something wrong? </p><p>No. Lance didn't wonder that as only a kid. That was his life. </p><p>How come he didn't learn that day? </p><p>He didn't feel anything but the gasp deep within his chest, the shock, and his heart stop. </p><p><em> Flinchy Lance... </em> </p><p>The sound of a click and a shaky sigh filled the once silent room. </p><p>And then- </p><p>
  <em> BANG! </em>
</p><p> </p><p>And just like that, he was awake, gasping for breath and clutching his chest. The wolf might as well have been just as surprised as he was with how his body jolted itself into fight or flight mode. </p><p>It was so real... It always sounded that way in his dreams. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Click... </em>
</p><p> </p><p>His ears strained, and his heart rate picked up, thumping that he was sure the wolf could hear it. Nothing but the feeling of panic and fear filled his entire being, practically drowning him. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Creak... </em>
</p><p> </p><p>The wolf seemed none bothered by the noises, mostly concerned with Lance. He placed his fluffy head on Lance's chest, who lay on the couch, offering him much-needed comfort. The boy, with his shaky hands, pet the doggo. He was trying to assure him that it was alright. It only must've just been Keith coming home... </p><p>Right...?</p><p> </p><p>The door opened, and two sets of footsteps echoed throughout the spacious area, followed by a booming laugh. That was not Keith... </p><p>"Ooooh, this place is so bare," the rando said. From the sound of his voice, Lance determined that he was probably in the kitchen. </p><p>"Well, it wouldn't be if... you know..." </p><p><em> Keith? </em> His voice was so... different. Teasing and flighty, the total opposite of what Lance got. Monotone and sounded blatantly annoyed with too many questions. </p><p>He remained lying on the couch, the dog as well. From their position, they wouldn't have been able to see them. The boy wondered if he should get up? Introduce himself or something? It felt wrong to eavesdrop... </p><p>"If what?" the guy asked, his voice husky with a trace of sensuality. </p><p>"If you paid me a little more than you already do... I do so much for you." </p><p>The sound of fabric on fabric was making a blossoming burning sensation across Lance's cheeks. To only add onto the noises that he heard, a muffled moan and the sound of a wet kiss.</p><p>Just what the fuck was going on?? </p><p>Should he get up? But they were in the middle of doing... whatever they were doing. Would Keith get mad? He could picture his irritated expression if he sat up and said, "Howdy! Don't mind me!"</p><p>Honestly, it was tempting... but he still didn't feel comfortable. </p><p>"Okay, baby... How much do you think you deserve?" </p><p>"Deserve? I don't think I deserve your money, cause that would mean I worked for it... You're so easy."</p><p>A groan, a heavy exhale. "You're right... You pick how much you want then, sweetheart." </p><p>"How's fifteen hundred?" </p><p>
  <em> Fifteen hundred?! </em>
</p><p>"Oh, come on. You know you're worth more than that. How about we bump it up to two thousand?" </p><p>
  <em> Two thousand?! Dollars?! </em>
</p><p>Keith made a humming noise, feigning reasoning on the amount with tantalizing lilt. "Deal."</p><p>Then the guy must've been whipping out his wallet and counting cash from the sounds of crisp paper. The next few moments filled the room with kisses and small moans which Lance couldn't decipher which belonged with whom. </p><p>"You got a roommate or somethin'?" the guy asked, catching some of his breath. "I smell food." </p><p>"Nah... The lady I hired to do the cleaning wanted to use the kitchen. Never used it anyway." </p><p>"You're right again. Cause I take you out, wherever you want..."</p><p>
  <em> Kiss. </em>
</p><p>"Then we can go out again sometime. As for now, I'm exhausted from today."</p><p>
  <em> Kiss. </em>
</p><p>"You sure you don't want one more?"</p><p>
  <em> Kiss.  </em>
</p><p>"Like I said... I'm sure I can satisfy you next week."</p><p>"Alright..." he sighed. "I guess I'll text you later."</p><p>"Mhmm. See you soon..." </p><p>Footsteps and a-</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Creak... </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Click...  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>And then quiet. </p><p>Okay, Lance was in the clear if Keith would-</p><p>"I know you're here."</p><p> </p><p>How did he <em>know?! </em></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>My midterms killed me.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Drama That was Completely Unnecessary</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Keef, what did Lance do to you?</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Lance hesitantly poked his head out from behind the couch and was surprised to see Keith in a different light. The last time he saw him, he was wearing a soaked hoodie with jeans. </p><p>But... he did a one-eighty. He wore makeup with every one of his features enhanced so beautifully that Lance could barely blink. It wasn't heavy, but it also wasn't too light, just the right amount. His outfit consisted of nothing but the color black, but each piece had a different texture. He wore denim jeans once again, but they hugged him in all the right places. A leather jacket, which Lance would've thought made anyone look like some biker. But it looked perfect on Keith because it meshed together with the different vibe he was giving off. </p><p>It was sexy, confident, and attractive... And maybe that was Keith. </p><p>Lance didn't get the chance to sit down or talk with him about what he was like, aside from how he lived. It wasn't a surprise that he was gone for the entire day since he told Lance before that that was the way he lived. But the boy wanted to know more about <em>him. </em></p><p>...And also about what he had just heard. Keith got a pretty good chunk of money from someone who Lance could only assume was his boyfriend...? But who carries around two thousand dollars in their wallet anyway?!</p><p>He wanted to know more, but the way Keith was looking at him made him reluctant. He had his arms crossed over his chest, and he wasn't <em>glaring </em>per se, more like staring at Lance with a sharp eye. </p><p>Lance couldn't tell what he was thinking... </p><p>"So, uh... That must've been your boyfriend, huh?" </p><p> </p><p>Silence.</p><p> </p><p>Well, at least Lance tried. The boy turned his attention back to the dog, settling into the couch again. At least the dog would respond to what he did. </p><p>"It's confidential," Keith suddenly said, finally making his way towards the stairs. He was back to the way he was, annoyed with Lance for no particular reason. </p><p>And that was what bothered him. </p><p>How was he annoying? He didn't see him, text him, or call him all day long, even though he wanted to figure out where he was. Lance was scared to call his <em>roommate </em>for help on where to find a grocery store! He didn't think that was the way it worked. Lance wasn't asking questions to be all up in his business. He was asking them so that he could get to know him or get some help, just a little bit. </p><p>"Whatever..." Lance sighed. </p><p>"What?" His footsteps stopped midway up the stairs. </p><p>"I just said 'whatever.' Go do your thing." </p><p>The boy continued to pet the dog, the only friend he felt he had. What was he expecting though? He ran away to get a taste of life, and there it was, bitter like coffee. His mother was right... The real world was different. </p><p>"Are you just going to sulk on the couch with my dog?" </p><p>Lance's hands paused. </p><p>"You know what? Yeah, I am. And actually, I'm surprised he even <em>is </em>your dog. You leave him alone all day long, which even someone who doesn't own a dog would know isn't good." And the dam of emotions was breaking. "He's also the only thing that I <em>know </em>here! But really, I don't even know what his name is. Because the <em>owner </em>didn't bother to tell me anything." </p><p>"Hey-"</p><p>"And another thing! You say it's confidential, which I can respect your privacy. But can we at least talk? It could be about anything else that you're fine with. Or is everything classified to you too?"</p><p> </p><p>A moment passed, filled with tension. Lance felt that holes were <em>burning </em>into his skin from Keith's constant staring. Goosebumps immediately rose on his skin, his instincts telling him that he fucked up somehow. </p><p>Keith moved down the stairs and made his way over to the couch, the fabric he wore giving away where he was. But it was impending... Like he wanted Lance to know, wanted him to hear, and wanted him to be nervous. </p><p>The dog remained by the boy's side as Keith walked around the couch. Lance refused to make any eye contact, not knowing where to look but knowing that anywhere else would be better than looking into those intense, dark orbs. </p><p>He plopped onto the couch, letting out a relieved sigh. Not too close, but not too far from Lance. </p><p>"I don't particularly like people," Keith began. "Because it's <em>work</em> for me. That's what I do pretty much all day long. So excuse me for not giving a shit about 'sitting down and talking with you.'" He was so incredibly different from how he was. It was <em>mind-blowing </em>to Lance how he could <em>change </em>like a fucking chameleon or something. Except he wasn't hiding from the boy. He was showing his true colors. </p><p>He continued, "To answer your question about what I do in the simplest terms, just for you, is dating. I go out with people, talk with people, and then eventually get paid for that time. And to answer your <em>other </em>question, since you're so inquisitive, he is my boyfriend. But he's one of many." </p><p> </p><p>So... he was like a sugar baby?</p><p> </p><p>Honestly, that was a first for Lance. The only reason he knew about it was because of high school. He heard plenty of girls saying it was the only way to pay off their loans, aside from scholarships, and that they would actually consider doing it. But... for some reason, he never thought that guys could do the same. He felt stupid, not only because his world was so small but also because Keith was making him feel that way. </p><p>Lance <em>really </em>didn't need the sarcasm, but he ignored it the best he could. </p><p>"So... that's why you said it was confidential?" </p><p>"Yes. For most of them, they want discretion. But some, like the one today, don't. Either way, I don't discuss it with other people period. It usually saves me from a lot of<em> questions." </em></p><p>"Okay, I don't need the attitude! I get it now. I'm sorry for even asking." </p><p>"Any more questions?" </p><p>"No."</p><p>"Last chance... I can see them all swirling around your head right now." </p><p>"No! I don't need answers from an asshole like you," Lance said, finally standing and <em>nearly</em> stomping upstairs, the dog in tow. In the distance, he heard an exasperated sigh. </p><p>"His name is Kosmo." </p><p><br/>No. Keith couldn't do that. He couldn't all of a sudden be interested in finally talking to Lance, not after being the way he was. Lance turned back around only to find that Keith was lying across the couch, chilling like a cucumber. </p><p>He repeated, "The dog's name is Kosmo. Kosmo with a 'k.'" In response to his real name, the wolf trotted back to the couch to receive some pets from his keeper. </p><p>"You can't do that!"</p><p>"Do what?" </p><p>"You- you can't..."</p><p>
  <em>...be that way.</em>
</p><p>"Right... I just felt like I should tell you since you're taking care of him, which is the only reason I got a roommate to begin with. So I'm not a terrible owner either, just to clarify." </p><p>Of course... Why didn't Lance see that it wasn't that he wanted to talk? Keith just wanted to make another point, to prove him wrong. Lance could never have imagined that the person on the phone could be so rude.</p><p>It didn't matter anyway! It wasn't worth it. Lance was on his way to his room and would never leave it unless Keith was gone... or at least until he cooled off.  </p><hr/><p>Waking up at a decent time in the AM improved Lance's salty mood. He knew that he was acting immature, and mulling over it would only feed into what Keith probably wanted. He also knew that a fight with his new roommate would inevitably occur, but he didn't expect it to be when he first got the chance to really talk to him. </p><p>He didn't comprehend who was in the wrong on what either. All he wanted was to have a conversation with Keith. Lance didn't know he did that for work! And besides, Lance also asked him the other day what he did, and he refused to answer. </p><p>But only because of the confidentiality thing... </p><p>So, even then, he was thinking of the work he did. It must've been a pretty important job, especially getting two grand in a single night by someone who he must've been talking to for months. At first, Lance wondered why Keith couldn't have a "normal" job, but hearing that number echo in his head was the only answer he needed. And if Keith had more than one boyfriend, he could be making adequate money. However, it must've been challenging to juggle all that with school too. </p><p>It showed Keith's dedication... </p><p>Just like with Kosmo too. He must've had all kinds of work piled up and felt sorry for the doggo, being all alone. And Lance was a suitable candidate. One, because he was an online student, so he could stay home all day. Two, because he was probably the only one who fell for all the red flags that Keith didn't even know were red flags... Three, it was cheaper, and he would essentially be saving not only dog-sitter money, but also money on rent.</p><p>Lance sighed in bed, staring at the dreary city before him out the window. It was a cloudy, rainy day. A few bumps and thumps were coming from below, which meant Keith was home, surprisingly. </p><p>But Lance would stubbornly keep his self-promise. He wouldn't move from his room no matter what. </p><p> </p><p>Except for food.</p><p> </p><p>He groaned, sat up, and slipped on his comfy socks. "I need to grow up..." he mumbled to himself. </p><p>Lance then made his way down the latter, still hearing the <em>thump, thump, thump </em>sounds from before. Except they were growing more consistent and quicker. Honestly, it was pretty alarming since he thought that a pipe might've burst or something because there was also a groaning sound coming from Keith's room. </p><p>Of course, Keith had plumbing issues, another thing he fucking forgot to add to his list of "concerns" on the website. The only thing on that list was "might not be home," which made Lance chuckle a bit. That wasn't a concern at all. </p><p>So he followed the noise down the hall and knocked on Keith's door because he would stand by what he said the night before; he respected privacy. </p><p>No answer. </p><p>He knocked once again, a little louder. "Keith. It's me. Do you know what's up with the noise?" </p><p>Again, no answer. </p><p>At that point, Lance figured that he wasn't even home. He probably shut the door because his room was messy or something. Or, maybe he was there, but he was crashing hard. </p><p>Either way, the sounds were disturbing, and he couldn't have that going on all morning long without someone coming out there to fix the issue soon. If Keith found out that he went into his room, Lance would explain he needed to identify the cause of concern. </p><p>Simple. </p><p>So he opened the door, and he instantly regretted it. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Keef, why?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. The Red Street That Began From Hotel Altea</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Hotel.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Skin. </p><p>So much skin was bare and practically gleaming from sweat. There was a stranger beneath Keith, clutching the sheets like a lifeline because... of the thumping. The person was just as shocked to see Lance as he was to see him gagged with his cheek pressed into the mattress, which also explained the groaning, groaning from the pleasure he must've been receiving. </p><p>Inside... </p><p>It probably took a solid three seconds for Lance's brain to comprehend what was going on, blink, then finally question himself why he was still fucking standing there. </p><p><em> "Whoa, whoa! </em>I-I'm sorry, I'm leaving! I'm leaving!" he shouted, slamming the door shut.</p><p>On that day, the guy that he was with left Keith shortly after the encounter. It was sad to watch him leave with Keith genuinely looking disappointed that he was gone for good. He offered to pay, but Lance's roommate denied the cash, saying that they didn't get to finish, so there was no need. It was like witnessing a relationship ending right before his eyes. </p><p>It was real.</p><p>The entire reason something so real ended was because the guy thought Lance was in a relationship with Keith. He was pretty sweet about it, saying that he met another he was interested in. Keith's face was something Lance never saw before. A bittersweet smile as he congratulated him and smoothly ended it. </p><p>He watched him go through the glass of the front door, making sure he made it through the gate okay. </p><p>And it was quiet. Keith was alone, staring out the window as he watched one of his boyfriends disappear down the alleyway. </p><p>Then they were alone together. </p><p>Keith let out the most drawn-out sigh Lance had ever heard. It was nothing but pure disappointment. And honestly, the boy felt like he deserved it. He was the cause of a loss. Keith's loss of not only money but also someone he appeared to care about. </p><p>"I thought I made it obvious last night..." he said. "I thought that I made it clear that I didn't want anyone to know about you." </p><p>All Lance could do was stand in the middle of the living area, looking guilty as ever. He nervously fidgeted with his shirt, a tick that he did when he messed up. </p><p>It stuck with him ever since he was a kid. Whenever he did something wrong, he paced and stirred, and he would try to deny it. </p><p>That got him nowhere, and he learned that the hard way. Ever since, he accepted that he was wrong, as challenging as it was to do so. </p><p>"I know... I'm sorry." </p><p>And he really was. The person he was with seemed kind, adorably timid, and softspoken. Not just a hookup either. A friend from Lance's observations. And all he could do was apologize. </p><p>But that wasn't enough. </p><p>"I mean... How did you not hear what was going on? Did- did you want in on it or something?" </p><p>"N-no, that wasn't it at all! I just... You wouldn't believe me if I told you." </p><p>It really did sound stupid. Lance actually thought it was <em>plumbing issues </em>and to tell that to Keith, who was obviously... having sex... There was no way his roommate would've believed that.</p><p>"Are you embarrassed about it?" Keith asked, assuming his assumption was correct. He began walking closer into the room. </p><p>"It's not what you're thinking! I thought it was something else." </p><p>"How could the sound of me fucking someone into the mattress sound like 'something else?'"</p><p>Okay, that was way too much of a description for Lance! It wasn't necessary when he could've just said sex. There was nothing wrong with just saying the word "sex." It was too much information, but at the same time, what was "too much information" when he saw just that? </p><p>Saw them... doing that.</p><p>"I thought that you were sleeping or you were gone, and..." </p><p>"And?" Keith asked, approaching even closer, closer than what Lance was comfortable with. The pressure to answer was building up with each step. His eyes were trained on Lance's, never once leaving them. He didn't even think they blinked! The boy finally blurted out the truth from the intensity of the situation and to just make him stop.</p><p>"And I thought it was the plumbing!"</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"You thought... it was the <em>plumbing?" </em></p><p> </p><p> </p><p>And that was pretty much how the conversation ended. </p><p>A week already passed, and Keith was duly avoiding Lance at all costs, which Lance still couldn't blame him. The boy continued to look after Kosmo and look for jobs that fit his needs. </p><p>Something that worked with his college schedule, was nearby, and paid well. </p><p>There were slim pickings, but he decided on a specific place. It was nearby where they lived, about a ten-minute walk down a few blocks. Lance came across it one day online; a hotel concierge. </p><p>Now, the place looked a little run down, he wasn't going to lie, and the pay wasn't exceptional or anything. But it was a start. He was still technically looking for more babysitting, house sitting, petsitting, or shopping offers, but it was a different place than back home. Back home, everyone knew everyone, so Lance had lots of connections. He spun a decent web of people. </p><p>But his web was gone. And he had to start all over again, all on his own. </p><p>His new job was him sitting at a desk from seven to midnight. Five hours of people checking in for the night. </p><p>And he meant only for the night. </p><p>The place was... in the shortest terms, a hotspot for hookups. There were many times when he would be taking a call from one of the rooms, but in the background were people... having fun. Couples after couples and maybe even three people. The supervisor was startled that he was surprised about it all. </p><p>His supervisor was a pretty blunt guy, being an older fellow and all. He didn't hold back at all on some things. </p><p>"Where did you come from, kid? You're in the red district." </p><p>"The what?" </p><p>"You know, the usual red light. You got all kinds of clubs down the street," he explained, gesturing out the glass window. "Did you not know that? You've been working here for a week, kid."</p><p>"I-I mean, I don't really explore down there." The job he had was enough.</p><p>"What, are you scared?" he joked, whipping out a box of cigarettes. No one was <em>really </em>allowed to smoke in the hotel, but no one seemed to give a shit either. </p><p>"No, I just-"</p><p>"Yeah, I get it, I get it. You work, you go home. But still, it's okay if you're scared. You kinda have to be around here." He lit his cig and took a deep huff. </p><p>"What do you mean?" </p><p>"You know how there's clubs and shit here, right?" he asked. </p><p>Lance nodded. That was literally what he just said. </p><p>"Well... there's some shady people in these parts too. They hide in 'em, do their business within their own kingdom, you know?" </p><p>No. Lance didn't. </p><p>"Wh-what people?" </p><p>"Man, you really are a poor, oblivious bastard," he laughed. "It's a group. They're not petty criminals trying to make a quick buck or anything like that. No, they're organized. They know what they're doing..." </p><p>His supervisor took another drag, leaning over the desk. He whispered, "So when you go home at night... make sure there ain't nothing following you back. I've had a few guys right there in your chair, disappeared without a trace. Cause they were messing with some shit they weren't supposed to. You get me?" </p><p>Well, geez, Lance had to. The boy nodded, his nerves on the very edge. </p><p>His supervisor nodded back from the verbal agreement. <em> "Well!"  </em>he shouted, nearly frightening Lance out of his seat. "I'm gonna head to the back. You got it out here, kid." </p><p> </p><p>And he was gone. </p><p> </p><p>"Do I?"</p><hr/><p>The boy was extra, extra, extra cautious while walking back home that night. He looked over his shoulder and also kept glancing at the street for any suspicious cars. Lance would've thought that his behavior was simply paranoia, but... he didn't believe his supervisor was pulling his leg. </p><p>He slipped past the corners of the familiar alleyways, practically jogging to the fence that he thought was scary before. But, after some time, it was a comforting sight. </p><p>Lance gave out the happiest, most relieved sigh once he finally shut and locked the door behind him. He was exhausted and tired, not even from work itself. It was the distress... </p><p>The street wasn't so far from where Keith lived... so was he doing okay? </p><p>Lance didn't see him or talk to him for the entire week. After hearing about that street... Lance couldn't help but worry that maybe something happened. Aside from walking in on him and his former boyfriend, he meant. </p><p>What if he disappeared? </p><p>What if he was gone and Lance was too absorbed to even notice?</p><p>He would have to check. </p><p>Lance hurried to take his shoes off and search. There was nothing on the bottom floor aside from Kosmo, and the same for upstairs. </p><p>No Keith. </p><p>That was fine, and there was nothing to worry about. All Lance had to do was wait till he got home to tell him about the-</p><p>Wait. </p><p>Keith would already know, wouldn't he? He knew the area, and he knew how to get around. On foot even, since Keith had no car. He depended on rides. </p><p>Rides from people... </p><p>Lance considered he was overthinking, but he couldn't help it. He didn't see him for a week, and nothing changed in his room at all. So maybe he really was gone? Not taken or anything but just moved, moved away from the weirdo that was his roommate. </p><p>But Lance eliminated that option as well. His roommate loved Kosmo. </p><p>So then where was he? </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Click... </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Creak... </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Lance turned on his heel. He didn't even realize that he was pacing before. He saw the entranceway, and he saw none other than the person he was worried for. </p><p>Keith looked different, like usual, and like Lance expected. But the boy wasn't focused on that. He was just glad to see him... as distorted he started to look.</p><p>His roommate kicked off his high-heeled boots, sighing at the sweet release. He had a few shopping bags occupying his hands, name brands from what Lance could see in his burry field of vision. He didn't understand why it was so blurry... and meshy. </p><p>Keith finally seemed to notice him, halting in his tracks. Was he surprised? Lance couldn't see his face clearly anymore. Not that he could ever read what was going on behind that handsome face. Well... except when he looked at him like he was crazy from before. </p><p>"Lance?" </p><p>He couldn't find the strength to reply, suddenly feeling so tired. So fucking tired and worn. His shoulders felt heavy, so he let them droop. His eyesight made him feel sick, so he shut them closed. And his knees were weak, so he let them give out. </p><p> </p><p>And it was warm. It was dark and warm.</p><hr/><p>It smelled good. It smelled so good Lance's stomach grumbled for him to get up. And when he didn't, it began to fucking <em> roar. </em> He hummed for it to be quiet so he could flip over and open his eyes. </p><p> </p><p>Where was he? </p><p>He thought he was in his room, but no. Lance was lying on the couch, Kosmo sitting on the fluffy rug below. His sleepy noggin knew where he was, but he couldn't remember when he moved there... </p><p>The boy rolled over again so he could pet the doggo that looked like he was guarding him. "Morning, buddy..." he mumbled. </p><p>"Morning."</p><p> </p><p>"Did you just speak?" </p><p>"You're an idiot." </p><p>Lance glanced behind him towards where the voice was coming from. "It was a joke..." he said, inwardly pouting at Keith's usual annoyed tone. </p><p>Keith only frowned in response. It looked like his roommate was making a classic breakfast with the ingredients Lance got. The boy was surprised that he even could cook... But he was also happy to see him doing it for some reason. </p><p>Even so, he couldn't assume Keith was making some for him. </p><p>"Um... How did I...?" </p><p>"You passed out." </p><p>"I... I what?"</p><p>"You literally collapsed as soon as I came home. I let you sleep on the couch because I wasn't gonna carry you all the way upstairs," he explained, serving some scrambled eggs onto a plate. "What happened?" </p><p>Lance sat up, trying to recollect what could've possibly made him faint on the spot. He remembered being anxious... anxious about what his supervisor told him. But what ultimately pushed him over the edge was when he began to worry about Keith.</p><p>How could he explain that without being weird? </p><p>"Uh... I-" </p><p>"Here," Keith said, handing him a full plate of breakfast. He even set a bottle of water and a glass of orange juice on the end table.</p><p>"Oh! Thank you..."</p><p>"Just try to be careful." </p><p>Lance's stomach growled even more for him to stuff his face, which he did. The food was delicious in every way, and he would even say that it was better than his usual cooking. </p><p>Keith sat down next to him with his plate, eating while waiting patiently for Lance to continue. </p><p>"I... I guess I heard a rumor, and I was just freaking out over it for no reason." </p><p>"What was it?"</p><p>"I heard about... the red district," Lance said. "And I guess the people? But I was just worried about it."</p><p>"The <em> red district?"  </em></p><p>The boy nodded, noting that Keith stopped eating altogether. </p><p>"Who told you about it?" </p><p>"My supervisor... I got a job at Altea, the hotel down there. It was the only thing that was-" </p><p>"You shouldn't work there," Keith interrupted. "You shouldn't be working anywhere near that street, to be honest."</p><p>"So... it's true? The stuff I heard?" </p><p>His roommate kept his eyes on his food, moving some of it around with a fork. He shook his head and sighed, "It's just not a place for someone like you." </p><p>What? Someone like Lance? </p><p>"What does that mean?" </p><p>Keith rolled his eyes. "Someone so... unaware. Naive." </p><p>
  <em> "I'm naive?"  </em>
</p><p>"Yes. You can't convince me otherwise."</p><p>"And what does that make you? The most cognizant?"</p><p>"No, it doesn't have anything to do with that. I've just lived here longer than you. I know it well," he said. "And if <em>rumors </em>can make you faint, then I don't wanna know what happens when you find yourself in some real trouble."</p><p>He sounded like he knew what he was talking about. Like he was older than he actually was... </p><p>"Trouble?" Lance asked.</p><p>"Just... If you want to work there, that's your choice. I only recommend you to find something else and steer clear of that street." </p><p>What made Lance ponder the most... was how Keith knew so much about the mysterious red street that began from hotel Altea. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Keef cook.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Keith Doesn't Know His Drinks After All</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Lance isn't a drink.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Keith would like to think he knows his drinks.</p><p>Not that he's a professional at it or anything. If it was red, it was red. And if it was white, it was white. Mixed by a bartender, they were mixed. Bottled meant they were bottled. It all made sense to him in the grand scheme of things. Though, the people who ordered it for him seem to deem themselves experts. </p><p>But he can tell they're most definitely, and most unquestionably not. They try to impress him in almost every way, practically waiting on him hand and foot.</p><p>White wine seems to be the most recommended from the older types, the more traditional men. Honestly, every wine can vary but from the men, he knew it was<em> rich </em>in taste. It ran across his tastebuds like a second coating from the fragile chardonnay glass he sipped from. It was delicate, light, and depending on the man, tangy at times. Especially when they tongued their mouths most disgustingly in the back seat of a black limousine. His calloused hands would graze Keith's sensitive thighs, or his hands would be rougher, more focused on what he wanted. </p><p>The older ones knew what they wanted and they were really mature about it. Innocent, but just devilish enough to be exciting. Also, secretive. The dinner table wasn't for play, but for business, really, it would be too suspicious. </p><p>They couldn't even be seen as something they truly were. They had a mask, a stoic facade that Keith could see straight through when they greet their wives after just fucking Keith in the long slim vehicle. But even so, it was a relationship, something the men wanted.</p><p>Keith said to himself that he could be that. He could be whatever they wanted him to be. </p><p>Red wine seemed to be from the younger ones, mostly in their thirties, which Keith considered young given the number of closeted traditionalists he'd been with. But even the thirties were a little iffy with Keith in that it depended on the man. If he was married then he was definitely another mask, closeted or not. If he wasn't he was more than likely just looking for a decent relationship. But both had one thing in common: money and at least some ounce of maturity. They were looking to spend their successes on someone special. So why not spend it in a nice loft with gigantic windows overlooking the foggy city below them?</p><p>Bachelors were Keith's favorite if he was being honest. They lived alone, which meant less planning and tiptoeing around the fact that they wanted to fuck Keith like any other guy he'd been associated with. The bachelors would likely gently shove him against the glass of the window, kisses trailing down his sensitive neck until they finally made their move. The scent of that red wine was vivid in Keith's mind as the man pounded him into oblivion and as their mouths connected.</p><p>Keith didn't know how many times he'd fucked in front of a window like that before. </p><p>Mixed drinks and bottled stuff were younger ones, twenties, raging and horny. Not all though. Some were very toned down and surprisingly mature for Keith. </p><p>Again, it always depended on the guy. </p><p>He usually met them in bars and after they had their buzz, they'd be up for public sex after fumbling around underneath the table with their hands for a hot minute. Keith's hands knew their own way around his thighs and straight towards the bulge in the pants of the other. He would let out a groan as Keith palmed him good, but eventually, it would get to be too much or, really, too little. They would get hasty. The bar bathrooms were always where Keith would find himself to be after a good cocktail or beer, sucking someone off with his fantastic tongue and sensual moans. Lewd sounds bounced off the walls and Keith's been in many situations where someone outside of the stall even touched themselves to them.</p><p>Keith didn't mind. </p><p>He didn't seem to mind a lot of things. </p><p>What he did, didn't<em> require </em>sex. It was optional, and he knew that. But they <em>paid</em> more, they <em>enjoyed </em>him more, and they even said they <em>loved</em> him more. Of course, Keith knew they were only using the word "love" as soon as they reached their epic orgasm by the end, or even in the beginning when Keith stripped his clothes off to reveal his beautiful body to them. It was just a word they used to express how much they liked him. </p><p>Never love. </p><p>Keith doesn't even know what love is. He was eighteen going on nineteen still searching for "the one," or whatever the fuck that was called. When there were people who wanted to be with each other and loved the small things about the other, holding hands and shit like that. But how could he say that when he was sleeping with people's husbands? </p><p>Keith didn't deserve love. </p><p>Not after all the shit he pulled, and still continues to pull. When he originally got into whatever it was he was doing, he genuinely didn't think of the money as the first thing he was aiming towards. He wanted to meet people, surprisingly. He was a pretty introverted teen in high school, but as soon as he became an adult, he felt like he needed to open himself up to more opportunities, more relationships. </p><p>Perhaps he could meet someone he actually liked, he thought. </p><p>And he did. </p><p>But they never were "the one." </p><p>Okay, so Keith's standards were high... But he didn't think they were. Not with what he did. He met all types of men and developed a liking for many. It didn't just have to do with money either. It was the relationship itself. Yes, he got paid for going on dates and eventually having sex, but those relationships were tough to create and keep. </p><p>In some ways, it was like a friendship.</p><p>To them, at least. </p><p>Friendship... </p><p> </p><p>"Hey, Keith?" </p><p>Said person snapped out of his daze of simply staring at his computer screen and not copying and pasting like he was supposed to do. Yes, he was making a cheat sheet for his online exam. No, there weren't supposed to be materials presented during it, but did Keith care? </p><p>Absolutely not. </p><p>Whatever the camera couldn't see wouldn't hurt. </p><p>Lance was cooking in the kitchen, which Keith thought that he wouldn't like since he ate frozen pizza the last time he did cook. But, he had to admit, it smelled pretty good, whatever it was. Out of curiosity and the need for further procrastination from his work, he stood from the couch and made his way over to the island counter. </p><p>He hummed in response while watching Lance chop up some carrots on the kitchen counter. The boy wasn't facing Keith as he turned and went back to handle the stove and other seasonings. </p><p>Keith couldn't help the way his eyes naturally drifted down south to Lance's ass. It was habit, and he honestly couldn't help it. He would never admit it to him, but Lance really was attractive. Keith could come up with so many different aspects about him that just<em> made</em> him that way. </p><p>Long, lean limbs, but not too skinny. He had some muscle rolling underneath beautiful, freckled, and soft-looking tan skin. And his<em> eyes... </em>They were big deep ocean blue eyes with speckles of lighter shades in his iris. </p><p>No, Keith didn't normally look that close at people, but it was an observation that he didn't mind looking at from time to time. And a new addition to the list of attractivity was that his ass was cute. It wasn't thick or anything, but it was toned and round from what Keith could tell from the way he moved his hips and the way the fabric of his jeans shifted. </p><p>But Keith knew... </p><p>Lance was his roommate and his roommate only. He never planned to get a roommate to lay with them or even date them. They were supposed to save him money and watch his precious doggo, Kosmo. </p><p>Even after how blunt and borderline rude Keith was to Lance, he still didn't expect the stuff he did. He never guessed that said person would cook for him, do his laundry for him, do almost all of the chores and cleaning, give regular baths to Kosmo, and even repair the squeaky back door. </p><p>Keith didn't expect someone capable of taking care of themselves and others so well. Granted, he was still debating on whether or not he was a pervert, but honestly... not even that bothered Keith. Yes, he lost a long relationship he had with one of his clients, but it was bound to happen anyway since he had found someone he wanted to be with. </p><p>And Keith had his fair share of voyeurs, and he could safely assume that Lance was probably the least harmful of all of them. But the more Keith thought about his excuse, "plumbing issues," the more he could see Lance just coming in to try and investigate it. He probably didn't want it to worry Keith... </p><p>The boy could be timid, but sometimes he dropped it with Keith since they were getting to be more familiar with each other. </p><p>"Keith?" </p><p>Well... laundry was pretty familiar anyway... He didn't know how Lance dealt with all the-</p><p>"Keith? Are you zoning out?" he asked, waving a hand in front of him. </p><p>"Hmm?" Keith hummed once again, blinking his eyes to focus. </p><p>"I asked if you could help dice the tomato for the salad..."</p><p>He glanced down in front of him and already had a chopping board with a tomato in the center with a knife to the side. "Oh... Sorry..." He instantly went to work, not exactly knowing what he was doing but doing his best anyway. </p><p>"Are you okay?" Lance questioned as he turned back around the turn off the stove and carefully move the pots to the kitchen sink. Keith's eyes flitted away from the tomato to get a glimpse at the way Lance arched his back, only for a second, before returning where they were all over again. </p><p>"Uh, yeah, why?" He made it sound like it was the stupidest question he'd ever heard. </p><p>Why did he make it sound like that? </p><p>"Because... you never apologize for anything." </p><p>"Um... I'm fine," he answered in between constantly looking up just to get a glimpse of Lance's nape, the freckles peeking from behind his oversized t-shirt. It looked so delicate. Keith just wanted to-</p><p>
  <em> "Fuck!" </em>
</p><p>Lance, startled, quickly turned around to find a bleeding Keith clutching his finger to his chest. The boy's eyes were wide, but he looked like he snapped out of whatever trance he was in to go dig through the drawers of the kitchen. Keith couldn't understand<em> why, </em>there was nothing in them.</p><p>That is, until Lance whipped out a first aid kit. </p><p>"Where- where the fuck...?" </p><p>"I couldn't find one here, so I thought that I should get one just in case. I'm glad I did," he mumbled, dutifully taking out some antiseptic, Neosporin, and a bandaid. "How bad is it? Just a cut?" </p><p>"Yeah... Just a cut." Keith watched as Lance offered his hand, his slim fingers holding out for Keith's wrist. </p><p>Keith gave him it. </p><p>Lance gently, very gently, like he was dealing with a newborn baby, applied everything to Keith's finger. To which he couldn't help but notice the boy's face. He looked like he was completing the most complicated task and that the world was depending on him and his abilities to simply put a band-aid on a finger. </p><p>Keith thought it was cute... so he huffed a laugh. </p><p>The boy's eyes immediately snapped up to Keith, his entire body reacting with him. "What's so funny?"</p><p>"Nothing, you just look so serious." </p><p>"Well, it's a cut! If I'm not careful it could get infected or something, or if I'm too rough it might hurt..." </p><p>"Lance... It won't get infected, and it hurts anyway. It's best to not think about it and get it done as fast as possible. I mean, the slower you are, the more pain you're putting your patient through."</p><p>"Really?" </p><p>"Yes." </p><p>"Okay, but... I'm sorry if it hurts more with me helping," he said before quickly wrapping the band-aid around Keith's finger, tightly and securely. </p><p>"Sometimes you need a little bit of pain to get better is all." </p><p>Ahh, shit... Keith let out his accent. Just a tad, and he could tell that only<em> that </em>got a reaction out of Lance. It was southern, something he got from his father. He tried his best to hide it as much as possible. Only a few times he would let it slip, like when he was drunk, high, or hanging with Shiro. </p><p>Oh... That's right. Shiro was gone. </p><p>"Are... are you from the south?" Lance asked, putting the kit away and taking the cutting board from Keith. </p><p>"Yeah. Texas... What about you?" </p><p>"Me?" </p><p>"Yeah. Since you're not from here either, where are you from?" </p><p>"Well, I was born in Cuba, but then my family moved to the states." Lance set the salad down onto the counter in front of Keith with two bowls. He began filling both bowls while he was waiting for Lance to finish up with the main dish.</p><p>"Oh, that's really cool." </p><p>"Yeah. I moved to Texas too, actually, so I guess that's where I grew up? But we did visit Cuba every year, which was nice..."</p><p>"You must miss your family..." </p><p>Keith could relate. Well, in a different way at least. Shiro was like a brother to him, and when he disappeared... it was heartbreaking. Because that was all Keith had. And he was gone.</p><p>"I do..." Lance sighed, a bittersweet smile on his face as he finally served the baked, seasoned fish that had Keith drooling. Even the salad was nice since it had some great flavor added to it. Still healthy, Keith might add. The fish was perfectly baked, it sliced so easily.</p><p>They both mostly ate in silence, just enjoying the others company. Lance only asked if he wanted some more salt or any condiments, which Keith replied with, "No, thank you. It's perfect..." </p><p>"Drink?" </p><p>"I'll just have water, please." </p><p>"Manners..." Lance smirked behind him from the fridge. "Such manners, Keith. What's going on with you today?" </p><p>"Nothing... You just made all this on your own and I was no help at all, clearly," he said, holding up his finger, "And I appreciate you."</p><p>"You appreciate me?" </p><p>"Yes. You take care of everything when I'm not here. You're only job was to watch Kosmo, but... you do everything."</p><p>"Yeah, it's called 'taking care of where you live.' You leave all kinds of stuff around, I don't know how you kept it clean before me."</p><p>"I had help." Keith shrugged as he finished his last bite of fish. He had help from only a few of his boyfriends before. He rarely ever took anyone back to his apartment unless he absolutely knew that they were not a threat at all. They would help out here and there and watch Kosmo every once and a while. </p><p>But, they were people who<em> paid</em> Keith. It was bad business to make the people who paid Keith work. That is, unless they wanted that, the kinky bastards. Overall, a roommate was a good option, and he was glad he chose Lance. Keith could tell he was a good person, capable, and even brave to keep working on that godforsaken street. </p><p>Lance did tell him he was looking, and he was glad he was looking for more options. Red Street was a bad place for him.. really, for anyone. But he also recognized that it was Lance's business and it was his choice in the end. </p><p>"Can I ask you something?" </p><p>It was a sudden question coming from the boy. </p><p>"You could always just ask it," Keith said, smirking. </p><p>"I know... But I wanted you to be prepared." </p><p>"Prepared? I don't think anything from you needs preparation."</p><p>Lance just frowned, but continued anyway, "Do you know anywhere on Red Street that's okay to hang out? With, like, friends?" </p><p>"I do... Why?" </p><p>Why was Keith inquiring?</p><p>"Well... I have a coworker. He's actually a maid there, and he was wondering if we could hang out somewhere nearby." </p><p>Did the boy not just faint from finding out about how dangerous the street was? Or was Keith imagining it that night when he rushed to cradle his head from crashing to the floor?</p><p>"Can't you both just go somewhere else near here? There's a good diner down the street that you two could eat at." </p><p>"But, he wants a bar. And he said the best were on Red Street."</p><p>"Yeah, if you want to get picked up by losers and complete freaks," Keith muttered. "You have a weird coworker..." </p><p>Lance visibly gulped and took that as an end to the conversation. He began cleaning up the plates and bowls and wrapping up the leftover salad. </p><p>Why was he suddenly quiet? He was asking questions and when he gets an honest answer he shies away?</p><p>Or... Keith was too honest. Too blunt... </p><p>"Hey, uh..." he started. "I mean, there are places you could go on the outer ends of the street itself. Those are less rowdy, especially the ones that are kind of hidden."</p><p>That piqued Lance's interest. "Hidden?" </p><p>Keith smiled at the fact that it seemed to be improving his mood. "Yeah... Like in Japan, they've got these very narrow alleyways that kinda hide small bars. It's kind of like that there. They're the safest anyways..." </p><p>"Wait, you went to Japan?" </p><p>"Oh, yeah... I lived there for about a year with my brother. It was nice."</p><p>It felt... good talking about himself so openly to someone. Sure, Keith had been open to his other boyfriends, but never about where he went in his life or his family. And if he did, they were lies just to keep them satiated.</p><p>But Lance was different. He was like a breath of fresh air. </p><p>"I've always wanted to go!" Lance said, smiling as he washed dishes. "I'm a pretty big anime fan..." </p><p>"Have you heard of Akibahara?" </p><p>The boy gasped, "Yes! I asked my parents if we ever went to Japan if we could go there first. I wanna get figurines and..." </p><p>The more they talked, the more Keith got invested in what Lance liked and disliked. What he wanted and didn't want. And not just about anime, the conversation would change based on their answers and shift back and forth in a flowing discussion. No arguing, except for little things, which was playful.</p><p>It was much different from drinks. Keith couldn't compare Lance with that, in fact, he couldn't compare him with anything. There were no categories that fit him, he was just... Lance. </p><p> </p><p>He wanted to be his friend. Keith wanted that... </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Lance and Keef. I force you to be friends. For now...</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Shiro Being A Dad</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Lance and Keith go out, and also the title of the chapter.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Well... Lance decided to go with his coworker to one of the hidden bars on the outer ends of Red Street. </p><p> </p><p>With Keith. </p><p> </p><p>He didn't mind going with the boy at all, mostly because of the "hiddenness" of the bar. He also knew that Lance would probably be looking cluelessly for hours on end for it on his phone, so it made sense for him to be there.</p><p>He would've liked to think that he wasn't there for protection though. Lance made that a big point the night before on how he could totally take care of himself in shady situations. Did Keith believe him?</p><p>Yes. But was he still worried?</p><p>Yes. He knew that he probably shouldn't have been so worried, it wasn't like they were close friends or anything... Even though Keith was trying to get there. So, if he thought about it, it was a good opportunity to get to know Lance more and just hang out with him. </p><p>"Can I get two mojito's?" Keith asked the bartender, getting himself situated in the narrow space. The bartender instantly recognized him, had some small talk, and efficiently made both drinks. As soon as Keith got his he immediately took a nice sip of the cool, sweet drink. Well, at least it was sweet to him. </p><p>He remembered having this drink at a hotel along the gulf with one of his boyfriends right after high school graduation. It was a rare trip for him to begin with. He never expected to be offered a nice vacation. One, because he was completely new to what he did. Two, all he did was talk to the guy for a bit about random shit. But Keith trusted him. </p><p>Keith noticed how subtle his touches were on the plane, and how he looked at Keith longingly on the first night of their stay. He wondered why he didn't just take what he wanted at first, but Keith recognized that he was a<em> loving</em> partner. He was gradual, romantic, and everything that made him a great guy. </p><p>He just didn't like commitment, which was why he spent so much on Keith.</p><p>The drink that he ordered for Keith was his very first alcoholic beverage ever. It was when he fell in love with the extraordinary tastes that could be mixed and blended. Or the ones served the way they were, strong and intense.</p><p>The mojito was really for summertime, chilling by the pool or beach before a nice sunset fuck on the softest towels known to man, finally. Tongues, fingers, and limbs intertwining in every way possible with the heat surrounding their bodies. Hips grinding against each other to get some glorious friction between both of their aroused cocks. But eventually and predictably, it grew to not be enough. It was a slow, and almost sleepy, sweet sex that day. </p><p>And surprisingly no – there was no sand problem. </p><p>When Keith took another sip his eyes drifted over to Lance who was just staring at him in shock. Keith frowned at him. </p><p>"Do you know what you're doing?" Lance suddenly asked, a damn near hissing whisper as he leaned closer to Keith. </p><p>"Yeah...?" </p><p>Lance rolled his eyes and clarified, "You're <em>drinking." </em></p><p>"Oh. I know the guy, he's cool with it." It was true. The bar was Shiro's favorite, and Keith could remember following him one day. He knew he was going to the bar. Coming home every night mumbling slurs and barely making it even down the hallway was a pretty good indicator. But, Shiro being stubborn about Keith drinking (because he <em>never </em>agreed that Keith should've been allowed to drink <em>at all</em> on the vacation that he <em>also</em> didn't agree with), he never told him about the place. </p><p>And when he showed up, Shiro could honestly do nothing to stop Keith at that point. The bartender didn't seem to mind, in fact, he was completely on board with it. He was an old guy, probably in his fifties, and he was a rock fan like Keith, so they were best buds right from the start. Shiro tried to make light that<em> at least </em>Keith wasn't drinking with strangers, and he only ever had one drink so he could help Shiro on their way home. </p><p>So, age wasn't really a problem for Keith. </p><p>But for Lance... </p><p>"But... we're not old enough."</p><p>Keith huffed, "Yeah, bet your coworker didn't mind one bit of that information. He's the one who wanted to take you to a bar."</p><p>"I mean, I<em> knew</em> that, but I wasn't going to drink."</p><p>"Then I'll have yours. No big deal."</p><p>Lance had his brows pinched with worry as his eyes flitted between the glass and Keith. "I can... I can try to drink it."</p><p>"Hey, if you're not comfortable with it, don't do it. If you're concerned about my tolerance, it's pretty high, so no worries."</p><p>Still, Lance remained with a conflicted expression. "I'm sorry that I'm not... I don't know..."</p><p>"Not what?" Keith asked, propping his head up with his elbow on the bar. </p><p>"That I guess I'm not drinking? You bought the drink and I feel like I should." </p><p>"Lance," Keith started, already beginning to get just a little irritated. "Just cause I bought it, doesn't mean you have to drink it. Saying no if you don't want it, is good." Keith couldn't help but wonder if someone else got the boy a drink, if he would immediately down it because he felt obligated to. Which would be wrong. </p><p>Keith was pretty glad he came if that was the case. He didn't know who this mystery guy was, but if he suggested a bar then he was more than likely older than Lance. Keith was trying to remain positive, think that maybe he was in his twenties just looking for a cute date... but the other side of Keith kept nagging. </p><p>"So... what's this guy like?" he asked Lance.</p><p>"What he's like?" </p><p>"Yeah. He must be nice if you agreed to go out with him."</p><p>Lance sipped his glass of iced water before answering. "Ah... Yeah, he's pretty nice I guess."</p><p>"You guess?" Keith asked, taking yet another sip as he listened intently. </p><p>"Well, I haven't really... talked to him that much? He just asked me one day if I wanted to go out."</p><p>Keith tried so hard to conceal his confused frown. "So, let me get this straight," he said. "You decided to come here with a complete stranger?" </p><p>"W-well, we're not strangers! He talked to me a few times... so when he asked, I thought that I should go."</p><p>"Lance..." Keith sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You mean you came here because you felt like you had to?" </p><p>"No! Not at all. I thought that it would be a good chance to get to know him."</p><p>Right before Keith could ask the guy's name, a man came through the small door of the narrow bar. "Oh, that's him," Lance said. But immediately after he said so, another guy came in afterward. </p><p>"And him?" Keith asked, already sensing the need to leave. </p><p>"I don't recognize him..." </p><p>It looked to be like they both knew each other, scooching their way over to Keith and Lance, chuckling darkly he might add. "Hey, Lance," the first said, looking exactly as Keith pictured him. Twenties for sure and even a handsome face to boot, and his friend looked no different. "This is Lotor. Forgot to mention he was coming... and who's this?" </p><p>"Uh, this is Keith... I texted you that he was coming. I'm sorry that it was kind of last minute."</p><p>"No, no! It's alright," he smoothly said, leaning over and holding out his to Keith, "Name's James." </p><p>Yup, he didn't like him. He already smelled of alcohol, like he spilled it all over himself before he came, and it was difficult for Keith not to turn up his nose. When he shook his hand it was disgustingly clammy and unsettling. Maybe Keith was being overdramatic about him, but he honestly wasn't exuding good vibes. He looked like a problem to him, like he got into trouble just because he could get away with it. Keith didn't like those types. And the second guy just looked even more like a red flag, smirking like Keith was some sort of challenge. Judging by their clothes, they must've been in college – their shirts had mascots. </p><p>Ugh... And this "James" guy or whatever didn't even mention to Lance that his <em>buddy</em> was coming, which made Keith even more suspicious of them. Lance would be alone if he didn't come with him... Alone with this shady duo. </p><p>His brain was trying. It was<em> trying</em> to give them the benefit of the doubt. But Keith thought that he could read people pretty well. Not that he was a nonverbal-reading expert, but he thought that he had some decent knowledge of knowing what people wanted. Obviously, sexual-wise was Keith's primary category, but what he did wasn't just sex. He had to get to know people, spin a web that he could handle, and manage them all with his type of schedule. Getting to know people was what he did, reading as much as possible at the very first touch.</p><p>And his readings were pointing to the door. Especially when James rubbed his hands on Lance's shoulders, his fingers crawling like spiders to slide off his jacket. Keith was honestly about to snap at him until Lance spoke up himself, "Um... I'm actually kinda cold. I'm gonna keep it on for now." He shrugged off his hands and resituated his jacket, almost hugging himself. </p><p>The boy must've smelled the alcohol as well, shooting a look towards Keith. It couldn't be described as panic, but more so nervousness. But that was enough for Keith to get him out of there. </p><p>The bartender, dutifully polishing the glasses, was aware of the situation. He must've read the clear and utter look of annoyance off of Keith's face perfectly well. But it wasn't like he could kick them out for being too friendly. </p><p>Then the first option would have to suffice. </p><p>Keith stood, his chair groaning from the wood floor. "Sorry... But I don't feel so good." The bartender didn't look the least bit offended. He knew that trick well... </p><p>"Oh, what's–"</p><p><em> "Ugh!" </em>Keith held his stomach like he was going through his first hangover all over again. He wasn't the best actor, but... it seemed like it was working. "Fucking hell... I think I'm gonna, <em>hhu–!"  </em>He turned to James, practically doubling over in pretend-pain, heaving up imaginary bile. </p><p>In response, the guy was disgusted and backed up into his friend. "Ugh, gross..." </p><p>
  <em> Yeah, you too, asshole...  </em>
</p><p>Eventually, Lance, Keith, and the shady duo were all outside. The boy was clutching Keith's arm close to his chest, looking like he was the only one holding him up. The one named Lotor attempted to reach out to Keith, but Lance immediately began walking away. "Um, I'm really sorry, James! It– it must've been the mojitos! I'll be fine taking him..."</p><p>"Are you sure?"</p><p>"Yes!" the boy hollered from down the alley, "No problem at all!"</p><p>As soon as they made it around the corner, they both kept cautiously checking over their shoulders to see if they followed. After turning their last corner onto their hidden street, Lance let out a relieved sigh. "Geez..." </p><p>Keith's lips unconsciously turned upwards, more than likely because of Lance's improved comfort. "You okay? They were reeking." </p><p>"Yeah... Heh, my first escape mission. Good idea, by the way..." </p><p>"Works every time... Well, almost."</p><p>When they both got to the familiar gate, it was like Lance realized that he was still holding onto Keith, snatching his arm away and mumbling a quick "sorry." Keith tried not to look like he missed that warmth as he opened the gate for the two of them. After getting through, they walked through the front door and were greeted by Kosmo's excited sniffs. </p><p> </p><p>The night went on with them making dinner together since they weren't able to eat out like they planned. Well, cooking dinner meant that at least Keith was doing anything that didn't require cutting.</p><p>"It's not that I don't trust you, Keith. I don't trust the knife," he said, smiling to himself while chopping some onions. </p><p>Keith didn't mind this... He didn't mind cooking with someone and anticipating a meal that he made in the kitchen that he thought was useless. He also didn't mind Lance... At first, he didn't think that the boy was annoying or anything. Keith just didn't know... how to interact with him? </p><p>It was ironic how he could get to know people all day long, but he couldn't be that way with the person he lived with. Maybe it was that he couldn't hold that act of being what someone wanted him to be. Granted, it wasn't<em> all </em>an act. Parts of him were in every relationship he had... They just weren't as pronounced as when he was with Lance.</p><p>He was someone that Keith didn't want to change for. </p><hr/><p>Shiro was always adamant about what he did. He was Keith's big brother, how could he not give at least some of his say in what he was doing at seventeen years old? When his older brother found out about his "business," it was like the end of the world.</p><p>"Keith..." he called from the kitchen. It was back when it was useful to the two of them, despite them not knowing how to cook at all. It was mostly frozen foods which Keith didn't mind eating. It was just all they ate... But it was all they could afford. </p><p>And that's what Keith hated the most. He hated not being able to afford things, even as a kid. He would ask his father for something and he would immediately go onto talk about how they didn't have the money for it, even implementing the talk of property taxes, crappy inspections for the car, and monthly bills. It was awful... Not because Keith couldn't get what he wanted, no. It was awful because he could tell that his father, even with all the stuff that he paid for, still wanted to give Keith at least a few toys or maybe an ice cream. Splurge a little. </p><p>But he couldn't. So when he passed, Keith was then adopted by his Godfather, Shiro's father. Shiro was someone he always looked up to. Mostly because he was smart and knew what kind of path he would take so that he could support himself and Keith as well. He always had his parent's support, but he thought getting an apartment with Keith would be a good experience for him. </p><p>When he went to join the military, Keith would never admit to him how much he would miss him. But he knew... especially with how Keith picked up every single one of his calls since they were so seldom. </p><p>The thing was... was that since Shiro left for his four years of service, Keith was busy trying to make money on his own. Working at a fast-food joint wasn't exactly the most fulfilling job, but it was his first one which meant it was still special to some degree... "Special" meaning there would always be that last customer <em>right </em>when they were about to close for the night, right after they cleaned and all. </p><p>But at least Keith got paid. </p><p>Until it wasn't enough. It wasn't enough for him, and it<em> wouldn't</em> be enough for him. He had college, at least four years of it, and fuck it was expensive. Shiro's parents could only provide so much tuition money for him. So one day, he decided to go looking online for what he could do. And somehow, he stumbled across a website... </p><p>Sometimes he wished he joined the military like Shiro. But other times he was glad that he chose to do what he did. </p><p>Keith made his way over to the kitchen of their new apartment, already dreading the sound of Shiro's voice. It wasn't patronizing, but it had that<em> tone. </em>That caring-yet-concerned-brother tone. </p><p>"What's this?" Shiro asked, turning to him with a slip in his hand. A receipt that Keith<em> thought</em> he threw in the trash for good. </p><p>"A receipt," he answered, trying to sound as monotone as possible. Giving his older brother attitude wasn't the best move. Especially when all he was doing was being family. </p><p>"I can see that. I guess I should rephrase my question," he said. "What is a receipt from Alkarian Appetite, probably the most expensive restaurant in town, doing in our kitchen trash can?" </p><p>"Wow... Heck of a way to rephrase." </p><p>"Keith."</p><p>"I know, I know... I found it on the street." </p><p>Shiro frowned and shook his head. "You seriously suck at lying to me. You never gave a crap about litter before." </p><p>"Well, maybe I do now. Saving the planet is... the new trend." </p><p>"Right... Then explain to me how the receipt contains a dish that's pretty much your favorite of all time, except it's fancy."</p><p>Keith squinted at him, close to a glare, but not as obvious. Shiro returned it, no doubt proving that they were siblings. </p><p>The boy sighed, "Okay, it's mine." </p><p>"Great. Was that so hard?" </p><p>"Yes." </p><p>"It shouldn't have been. I'm just wondering who took you out to eat is all." </p><p>"Why are you so nosy?" Keith sighed, moving over to the fridge to get a drink. </p><p>"I'm not nosy, I'm concerned." </p><p>The boy turned and took a good, long sip from his apple juice. "You wouldn't know them." </p><p>
  <em> "Keith." </em>
</p><p>"It's the truth! Besides, what difference does any of this make? So what if I'm going out with someone? It's not a big deal," he said, making his way towards the stairs. </p><p>"You think I don't know that you sneak out?"</p><p>Keith paused. "What?"</p><p>"You leave... At around nine o'clock, right? Right when you think I'm asleep, or on Fridays when I'm not here," he told. "What's going on with you? No high schooler leaves every single night to go out so late... At least, not when I was in high school."</p><p>"Well, times have changed, Shiro. I... I just go out with friends."</p><p>Even his brother saw right through that lie like it was a crystal, clear, glass window pane. He knew that Keith didn't have that many friends... No, no friends at all, really. None that he bothered enough to mention to Shiro. But, the older man wouldn't mention it to him, because that was the way he was. </p><p>Kind. </p><p>"Keith. Just... I know that I haven't been around as much, with college and work. But, I'm just worried about you. I don't know what you're doing, I don't know if you're in trouble, or..." he trailed off, shaking his head once again. He looked helpless, like he didn't know what to do with his little brother. </p><p>Honestly, Keith couldn't blame him. He was trying his best to understand the boy. When he came back from the military and got their new apartment, it was still... not awkward, but more so difficult for them to talk like they used to. Like when they were kids. </p><p> </p><p>"Promise you won't be mad at me?"</p><p>Shiro looked up from the tiled floor, surprise written all over his face. Keith was a tough nut to crack with almost anything. "I promise," he said. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>He got mad. Well, he wasn't mad... just disappointed. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>He's gone, but like... is he though?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. I Need A Drink</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Keith and Shiro argued. </p><p>A mystery man.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"I need a drink," was all his older brother said before going into the fridge for a bottle of beer. </p><p>After two hours of explaining (and arguing) to Shiro about what Keith did, the man looked exhausted. He looked like he could not <em>believe </em>that Keith would ever become a sugar baby, or even know about that kind of stuff. And the sex, dear God, Shiro could not even... "You <em>just </em>turned eighteen. You haven't even graduated yet and you're- you're..."</p><p>"It's not that big of a deal." </p><p>"Keith, when I finally got out of the military and moved here with you, I thought that I was doing a good thing, but this is just-"</p><p>"What's so wrong about it?" Keith was beginning to get frustrated. He was already sat at the kitchen counter with his fists balled up in anger. Trying to explain to Shiro that he liked what he was doing was so fucking complicated when he thought that he would be the most understanding. </p><p>"What's wrong is that you don't know these people, and you certainly don't know this city. I mean, have you ever considered that you might get hurt? Or even worse than that?" </p><p>"Of course I have! But I'm extra careful about who ‘these people’ are, and if I trust them enough to go out, have fun, and get some free money handed to me at the end of it, then I think it's fine." </p><p>"But... But it's not free. What you do isn't free, Keith, and it's not right. You say you know them, but I mean, with<em> married</em> men too? Is that what you want?"</p><p>"What does it matter if I get paid for it?" </p><p>"See? <em>That's</em> what's wrong about this whole thing."</p><p>"What? That I'm finally earning some goddamn money? That I'm finally getting things that I want?"</p><p>"No! That you don't see how wrong it is and fucked up to sleep with someone else's husband or boyfriend. It's like you have no morals, no care in the world about anything, all for money." </p><p>"Yeah, you're right, Shiro. It is about money. It's always been about fucking money..." Keith muttered. "I've never been able to not worry about fucking money..."</p><p>"I understand that-"</p><p>"No! You don't! You don't know<em> anything</em> about that. You have your fucking GI bill and everything is taken care of for you." </p><p>"What do mean? I <em>worked</em> for that! And for you, mom and dad gave you money for-"</p><p>"They gave me<em> your </em>college savings."</p><p>"No, no, Keith. You've got it wrong..." Shiro said, setting his beer down on the counter. <em> "I </em>gave you that. I went back to Texas so you could have it. So I do understand... Please, Keith." </p><p>He didn't even know what he was pleading him for. Maybe to stop talking? Maybe to stop doing what he did? </p><p> </p><p>No. Keith wouldn't. He was getting money that he had only seen in movies, piled up underneath his bed in a box. Keith made a mental note that he would have to deposit it in his account later on. He could see his older brother digging through his shit some more since that was apparently what he did. All because he was concerned. </p><p>It wasn't like Keith didn't appreciate his brother, he truly did. It was only that Keith was finally eighteen, he could make his own decisions, do whatever he wanted to do whether he was still in high school or not. Besides, it wasn't like Keith had any<em> real </em>parents to tell him what to do. His Godparents never particularly cared about what he did, even as a child. They never snapped at him, told him what to do, or did anything that normal parents would do. They said it was because they didn't need to. </p><p>But Keith knew it was because their son, Shiro, did all the work for them. Shiro was the one who put in most of the work with Keith's problems. He was always there to give advice, or to simply hear him out. </p><p>And there were also times like this. Times where Shiro had to put his foot down and tell him to do the right thing. </p><p>But what did it matter what was "right" to Shiro? Why couldn't Keith decide what was "right" or "wrong"? </p><p>If he was happy doing what he was doing, then he saw nothing wrong with it. </p><p>It all happened on the first time he actually considered having sex with one of his dates. In fact, it was right after leaving that fancy restaurant, the receipt lying on the kitchen counter. The guy was nice and he was probably around his thirties, a nice career from what Keith could tell of his neatly dry-cleaned suit and tie. He had a few gold rings on his fingers, one a wedding ring. </p><p>Keith didn't know why that didn't bother him. </p><p>The man loved rubbing his wealth in Keith's face, with the wine he ordered, only for him, Keith might add since he knew of his age. The freshly baked bread with a side of delectable butter and an appetizer so delicate-looking yet delicious. It was fit for a queen, even the entrees. The guy had ordered himself a steak, the meat so tender that he barely even had to use the pristine knife that glinted underneath the warm, atmospheric lighting. The desert was the last part, the best part. The cake he asked for was sweet but not too sweet with a side of smooth, delightful ice cream. </p><p>But it wasn't the ice cream that sent shivers down Keith's spine. It was the other's hand, resting gently on his thigh while they sat in the corner booth of the room. He looked at Keith devilishly, knowingly, and teasingly before pulling his hand away to deal with the check. </p><p>He knew what he was doing. He knew that Keith wanted <em>more. </em>With just the touch of his warm hand, it sent blood rushing to Keith's cock so unexpectedly. His craving was something he never knew he could have. He never knew he could want someone to take care of his situation so fucking bad. </p><p>So sitting in their car right outside his apartment was more than a letdown for Keith. He wanted it but didn't know how to ask for it then. So, he thanked the guy for a great night before reluctantly turning to leave. </p><p>"You know..." he said, Keith, immediately freezing himself. "You don't have to go home tonight." </p><p> </p><p>He was right. He didn't. </p><p> </p><p>It all began with him laying on a luxurious hotel bed with the man between his thighs, prepping him thoroughly yet gently. He allowed Keith to feel pleasure while he did so, pushing his fingers in and out of his tight hole before curling them and pressing on just the right spot. It had Keith rolling his eyes back in desire as he let out all kinds of noises he never knew he had. He didn't hold back from being loud, mostly to the man's command, but also because it felt good to express how <em>good </em>he felt. </p><p>The third and final finger was added into the mix, continuing to tenderly stretch him around them all, prepping for what Keith could only assume was a decent-sized cock. Keith noticed in the restaurant that his fingers were thick, but good God, all three put together, thrusting in and out to make sure he was ready felt like almost too much for him. </p><p>But he knew he wanted it. His cock was hard and aching for more than just the man's other hand wrapped around it, giving it a few soft tugs, just enough to drive Keith mad, before simply holding it in his palm. </p><p>Keith never thought he would whine for<em> anything </em>in his life. But the lust, the want, the desire to be filled more with just the man's fingers was enough to make him let out a high-pitched sound. </p><p>"I know, I know," the man murmured, his deep voice making even more precome drizzle out of Keith's cock. "I know you want more... I'll give it to you." </p><p>He slipped his fingers out of Keith's hole only to press his thumb right where his perineum was. His other hand, slick with lube and holding Keith's arousal, began to suddenly jack him off to full speed. The sounds of wet with wet and the way he stroked his dick in all the best places with how fast he was doing it was more than enough for Keith. He cried out the man's name, grasping his muscled arm, while his vision went white from such unforeseen pleasure. </p><p>His first orgasm. His first one with someone else. </p><p>The man retracted himself, fully sitting up and looking down at the beautiful mess that was Keith. Come spurted across his stomach and chest, a lot more than what Keith anticipated of his satisfying release. His hair was probably a mess, strewn in all different directions on the pure white sheets. </p><p>But the man didn't seem to care all that much, in fact, he smiled at his work before lifting Keith's legs and spreading them wider to allow himself some access. Keith glanced down south to find that his thoughts were correct, almost. His cock was a little bit bigger than what he thought it would be from all the prep. </p><p>But damn, if Keith didn't want that inside of him as soon as possible. </p><p>The other wasn't as eager as Keith, grabbing some more lube to stroke onto his girth, watching Keith with intense, dark eyes.</p><p>"Flip over," he said. It was a promise. He was going to do it. </p><p>Keith immediately did as he told him to, turning onto his stomach and lifting himself on all fours. That is, until the man gently caressed his ass before slowly sliding his hand down Keith's spine and right to the nape of his neck. He grabbed it, not roughly, only tight enough so Keith could feel his nails, slightly digging into his soft flesh.</p><p>The man lightly pushed him further down so his cheek was pressed into the bed. His hand then made its way back up Keith's shivering spine and finally ended it with a grip on his hips. He then finally guided his tip to where it needed to be. </p><p>But that was all. </p><p>Keith was about to turn around, probably glare at him and tell him to keep going, but he spoke first. "Are you sure about this?" the man asked. </p><p>"Yes, yes I am, please..." Keith began to back his hips on his own, trying to press at least the tip of his cock into his waiting, desperate hole. But it was hopeless, the man's grip on his hips was strong, almost bruising. Keith didn't care about the pain. He didn't care about anything... </p><p>"Cause after this..." the man said, adding pressure, just enough to leave Keitb panting for more. So close, it was <em>so </em>close. "...you'll be mine."</p><p>"I-I don't care, just... I'll do anything if you please–" </p><p>And in one full thrust, he was inside Keith, sending the boy into a moaning mess. It hurt, but why did it hurt so good? It didn't even matter, the moment he tried to decipher the reason the man began building his pace, just barely waiting for Keith to adjust to his size. </p><p>That was Keith's first time, and he didn't regret it whatsoever. How could he? He was getting fucked senseless and it was all he ever wanted and more. Touching himself was satisfying only to a certain extent, and by the end of it, he would feel awful. He would hate himself for not having the confidence to actually go out and <em>meet </em>someone, someone to top or bottom with, he didn't care. So after his first few shallow dates of his new "career," and endless nights of coming home late and using nearly all of the toys he owned to get off by himself, meeting this mysterious man was honestly the best thing that ever happened to him. </p><p>"Feels good?" he asked Keith, his tight grip on the boy's shoulder should've also hurt. But his mind was too focused on getting off without even being touched, and it was entirely possible with how the man was punching his spot every single time. </p><p>Keith couldn't even comprehend his question until he was practically manhandled up onto only his knees, his back meeting a firm, muscled torso. Strong fingers twisted themselves into Keith's raven-black locks, the pull sending some more jolts of pain mixed with pleasure. "You hear me, bitch? Or is it that good? Look at you... a fucking mess." </p><p>It was true. The new position only allowed him more access, more of a direct path in where Keith wanted him. He wrapped an arm around Keith's torso, thrusting as hard as he possibly could into him, clearly having no patience for Keith to formulate a coherent<em> thought </em>in the middle of all the new sensations he was feeling. He was loud too. Louder than he ever thought possible, practically screaming the other's name. </p><p>He didn't seem to mind though. He encouraged it. He gave Keith some praise, telling him how pretty his voice was and how everyone would know the next day that it was <em>him </em>he made a mess of. <em>Him </em>he made his for what felt like hours on end, never once letting him come. <em>Him </em>he made into a sobbing, pleading play-thing near the end of it. </p><p>That was all Keith wanted, he wanted it so bad and he made him beg, cry, and claw at the sheets beneath him in frustration because <em>why? </em>"Don't stop, please, don't stop, keep going, please..." Mumbling and barely even discerning what he was saying himself, just mindless fumbling to get what he wanted most as he approached his third untouched edge. His cock was flushed, slick with precome and lube, and achingly neglected... but close. Oh, so close. So close, so close, so close, and he was gonna let him.</p><p>"Go on... I want you to come for me." </p><p>His vision went black, his eyes shutting so hard as the most intense feeling overtook his body, seizing him in <em>deep </em>pleasure all throughout. Hot, thick, ropes of come spurted from his cock, the sweetest relief he had ever felt. The man finally dipped his hand to reach around and Keith winced at how fucking sensitive it was as he tenderly stroked him through his orgasm, whispering some more gentle praises. His hands were tight on the man's arm, knuckles white, but it was as if they went numb, limp as noodles the second his body hit the mattress. </p><p>He was tired. </p><p> </p><p>And in the morning when he woke, he surprisingly wasn't hungry. No, he had a different appetite. He wanted to do it all over again. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Keith will get better.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Mystery Man</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Keith's second night with the man, and discovery that led to what he did when he was in high school.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Just like that, Keith..." he said, lounging on the armchair that the hotel provided in the comfortable suit all three of them occupied. </p><p>Yes. <em>Three. </em> </p><p>Keith was practically caging someone in with his body, supporting himself for what felt like hours on end trying to perfect a particular fuck the mysterious man wanted. His shoulders were sore, his core was burning, but most of all, his cock was <em>aching. </em>As if the delicious punishment Keith received the day prior wasn't enough for the man. </p><p>The only difference was that he was the one topping, his arousal buried deep inside another anonymous person, gently prodding his blunt tip countless times to find their bundle of nerves. They were blindfolded, both their arms tied with a costly silk scarf to the bed stand. It was strange, as if the bed was <em>made</em> for that kind of play, perfectly spaced wooden bars. </p><p>Keith wanted to make it feel good for them. He also wanted <em>him </em>to be happy. </p><p>The man guided him through his words alone which was enough to make Keith just want to chase his own orgasm. Getting off to his voice alone while he watched the entire time. But he also didn't mind the third party, clearly desperate for Keith to let loose and do just that. Beautiful pink marks trailed down the tied person's neck, traces where Keith's ministrations were. His chest was no exception either, his pink nipples hard from the cold chill that the man deliberately kept in the room. They were also slightly abused, wet with Keith's saliva from tweaking, tonguing, and sucking them while listening to his pretty moans. </p><p>Keith understood what the man meant by the word "pretty." They were hot, sensuous, and only sent more blood rushing towards Keith's cock as he kept his slow pace. He knew he hit the spot when he felt him unconsciously clench around his sex and a needy whimper slipping past his wet, red lips. </p><p>"Good..." the man mumbled, standing finally and making his way over to the bed. Keith ceased his hips, not scared, but rather, excited as to what he would do. The man beneath him let out a pitiful moan, seeking even more of Keith's movement by squirming, clenching so tightly around him. "Please..." he begged. "I-I can't wait, please, I want-" </p><p>"You'll get what you want," the man said, his hand coming up to affectionately cup the bottom's cheek, his thumb brushing against the shiny black fabric. Keith's eyes drifted down to the bottom's lips, suddenly filled with the urge to kiss and bite them some more. He did, leaning down some to have those warm, soft lips against his, moving in sync, taking and giving what the other wanted. A small pleasureful hum came from Keith, his lips trailing from his lips to his cheek, right towards the man's thumb. </p><p>He lifted it, already knowing Keith's intentions, and allowed him to suck. The man pressed down onto his hot tongue before saying, "Slut... You're making it hard for me to just watch."</p><p>With a low pop, Keith released. "Then don't." </p><p>The man smiled at his words, but slowly shook his head. Despite him refusing, Keith could tell from the prominent bulge he was sporting he genuinely wanted to ravage both of them. He could see that familiar hunger in his dilated, dark eyes as they roamed over the lengths of their sweaty, flushed bodies before stopping right where they were connected. </p><p>"Sorry... But I can't tonight," he whispered, his other hand reaching out to grab Keith's ass, groping some before moving behind him and climbing on the bed. Both, Keith and the bottom, quietly lamented the fact that he really wasn't going to join but only guide them. </p><p>But Keith had to remember. It was a learning experience. He asked him the other day how he made it feel so good for him. How he could hit his spot directly with every single relentless fuck, and make him scream so loud because he was practically seeing stars. All he said was, "Well, I'll teach you." </p><p>And here they were, the man's hands guiding Keith's hips to motion again, somehow managing to find the bundle all over again. "Perfect. Start slow... and then I want you to build up from there. Don't forget his cock either."</p><p>Following his words, his brows pinched from concentration and the constant pleasure he was feeling from the clenching the bottom was doing. He was desperate for more and Keith could understand. He was in his position before, mumbling pleads while tugging on his restraints. </p><p>"You know, Keith..." the man said from behind him, his hands never ceasing to stop grasping some of the fat of his ass. "You have a pretty big cock. It's perfect, actually. It's probably stretching him out so good... and I bet he's trying his hardest to suck you in. Make you fuck him rough, hard." </p><p>Keith let out another low hum, beginning to thrust just a little bit faster, a little bit harder, right where he needed to be. </p><p>And the man continued. "He's just like you right now. He's just like you were last night, fucking desperate for more. Why don't you give him more, Keith? You want to tease him, don't you?" he asked. </p><p>He shook his head in response, his pace already uneven and damn near frantic. He was starting to let out his own moans, not being able to hold them back any longer since it just felt so <em> fucking good. </em> Being buried deep inside another while being guided from behind, badly wanting the man to stick his cock inside but knowing full-well he wouldn't. </p><p>"Don't get needy too, Keith... Is your stamina really that low? Can't hold out just a little bit longer for him? That doesn't surprise me... You didn't last long at all when I fucked you. Maybe he's the same."</p><p><em> "Ah, fuck..." </em>Keith whispered, his support going all to his one arm as he moved the other further down to the bottom's cock. The motions he was making were gonna make him fucking hurt the next day, but he didn't care. He was making him scream his name, making him an absolute mess beneath him. </p><p>"Harder..." the man said, his dark commanding voice immediately sending Keith to follow it. He was pounding him relentlessly, never once giving in to his muscles demands or his sex. "Harder, Keith..." </p><p><em> "Keith! </em>Ahg-!" He felt the bottom spasm around him, a sudden warm orgasm spurting, painting, between their quickly rising and falling stomachs. But he didn't stop. He  <em> wouldn't.  </em>Not until he told him to. Not until he finished himself. The pressure was building as he maintained his rough pace, hearing the bottom whimper and cry out from the harsh but delicious overstimulation. Two voices in his ears, telling him what to do. Telling him what he wanted to do.</p><p>"Do it... Come inside of him." </p><hr/><p>Most people would probably think he was lonely and desperate for attention that he slept with people who were already married or taken. Keith<em> really </em>tried to look inside himself and see if either of those fit him or perhaps both combined. </p><p>Loneliness. Keith rarely ever felt lonely, especially when he always had Shiro, and sometimes his godparents. If he ever wanted to confide in someone, the very first person he would go to was Shiro. He trusted him, and he respected him, not just as an older brother, but also as a friend. </p><p>But, he also knew that feeling alone could be with anything. Despite being able to depend on Shiro, there were just some things that he didn't think he wanted to share with him. Like, sex. Shiro did give him a decent talk about it (as awkward as it was), and he tried his best. </p><p>But... when it came to what Keith wanted, he certainly couldn't tell Shiro. He<em> wanted </em>sex. Most people did in his high school, and sometimes they would even offer it to Keith. But he always said no, thinking that holding off was for the best, waiting till marriage kinda deal. It wasn't until one day that he caught his two teammates from the soccer team fucking in the locker rooms that he realized what he was missing out on. It sounded like it felt good, <em>looked </em>like it felt good. It didn't look like the porn he watched to half-heartedly get himself off. Instead, it looked <em>real. </em>More sensuous, intimate, and lewd. </p><p>Oh, and they didn't even stop when they noticed Keith. </p><p>They kept going while he stood there, blood rushing to his face, his neck, his chest, and throughout till it proceeded towards his dick. He muttered a quick curse before fleeing the room, spotting the nearest restroom. </p><p>It was awful. Jacking off became something that wasn't enough anymore. But he wasn't desperate enough to have actual sex yet. He was just greedy for more. </p><p>With his part-time job that he had at the nearest fast-food restaurant, he made enough cash to get a good dildo online. Of course, the box that came in the mail caught Shiro's attention since Keith never liked spending his hard-earned money on anything at all. He asked him curious questions, and somehow, Keith made it past all of them. </p><p>When he opened the box, he was delighted to see something that would finally sate his needs. It wasn't too big and it wasn't too small, a suitable size for his tight ring of muscle. He also bought lube, which he was excited about since he only ever used lotion for his cock. But Keith was adventurous and was willing to try anything new. Anything <em> more </em> than what he was doing prior. He wasn't picky. And lastly, Keith bought some condoms. Just in case if there was ever a time where he would need them. </p><p>On that very night, he tried fingering himself open for the first time. Even slipping one finger in was a rush. He felt like he was discovering something that would change every thought he had ever had about masturbation. Sure, he had considered doing it before, but he was too apprehensive, worried that it wouldn't feel good enough. </p><p>But he was wrong. Oh, so wrong. </p><p>It did hurt a bit in the beginning, the <em>stretch, </em>as he added another lubed finger. He made sure to relax his entire body, keeping some arousing thoughts swirling around in his hazy mind. Some made-up fantasy with a faceless person doing what he was doing to himself. His eyes were closed, his brows furrowed in concentration as he tried to gently find that "sweet spot" while stroking his slicked cock. He made a mental note to get more lube since it was the best thing he ever found on the internet <em> . </em> </p><p>It was when his blunt fingers brushed against a bundle of something that the length of his body pleasantly shivered, his mouth letting out a drawn-out, sudden, obscene moan from his wet lips. Keith turned his head into the pillow, his mouth biting into the corner so he could be just a little quieter. The<em> last </em>thing he needed was for Shiro to wake up and shake him out of his perfect, lust-filled thoughts. </p><p>He hummed as he continued that same motion with his two fingers, enjoying the new sensation until he felt he was ready enough to add a third. Keith realized that the make-shift gag was kind of turning him on even more. He tried to imagine it as someone's hand, or someone else's fingers. Keith would lick them, suck them, and he would<em> still </em>be loud, just to egg on the one he was with. But if he wanted it enough, he would be good, trying his best to stifle his dirty groans for whoever this person would be. </p><p>And they'd pick up their pace, thrusting their fingers in faster, harder, their motions becoming even more intense, <em> too </em> intense for Keith to handle. They would stroke his cock too, their fingertips smoothing right where his sensitive spots were. Whispering sweet, gentle praises as he approached his climax was nice to imagine. But Keith didn't mind a little name-calling, like slut or whore, because he wanted it so badly from them. </p><p>So badly... </p><p>He was already past the point where the wet sounds were bouncing off the walls, only turning him on even more. Keith's mouth unconsciously detached from the pillow, drool dripping out of the corner of his mouth as he neared his winning orgasm. "Mmmhm, please... please..." he begged his imaginary someone as he picked up his pace even faster, both of his wrists sore from the constant movement. But he wouldn't <em>dare</em> stop. Not when he was so close to feeling something he had never felt before. </p><p>And he came <em>hard. </em>He let out a whimper as he milked his continuously coming cock, the long thick ropes soon reduced to a thin, dribbling mess that ended when his body stopped shivering from the absolute pleasure he felt <em>everywhere. </em>From the tips of his curled toes to his head was nothing but pure bliss. </p><p> </p><p>He <em>had</em> to try that again except with the dildo. The object laid to the side, completely forgotten in the midst of Keith chasing his own pleasure.</p><p> </p><p>Which he did. He bought all kinds of brand new toys and vibrators that he eventually grew unsatisfied with as well. It was frustrating, to say the least. He was mad at himself for never being happy with what he had. After all, what else could his body possibly need? </p><p>A person? Warmth? A real cock, real fingers, and even a real ass? </p><p>Well, fine. Keith had had it. He was done with waiting. And there was only one solution that he found to help his situation. He was running low on money because of all the toys, and he wanted to find someone he genuinely trusted to have sex with. So... he found a website. Most people that Keith met in his life said that others who would pay to date wouldn't ever be trustworthy, especially if he met them online. Which, yes, Keith could agree, But not everyone was the same. Each person he went out with was unique, special. </p><p>Even on his second date, he fell in love with how it was a new person that he would get to know. What they liked and disliked, their tastes. It took time to develop a liking for each one, and it was the same on the other end. They<em> really</em> did want to date. Money was just involved. </p><p>And Keith saw nothing wrong with it as long as he had the two things he loved; sex and money. Was it wicked to have those thoughts in mind? </p><p>He was a college student for fucks sake. </p><p> </p><p>Shiro disapproved of what Keith did, no matter how much he made in a month, or even a single night. But it wasn't like he was going to stop talking to his little brother because of it. After their argument, he was only a little colder towards him, which wasn't new to Keith. His front would disintegrate after a few weeks and he would be back to normal after all.</p><p>But the problem was that he would witness Keith do <em> other </em> things he didn't approve of. Like, drinking. </p><p>After that experimental vacation Keith had, Shiro absolutely despised the man that enabled him to drink. It was written all over his face when the guy dropped Keith off, his glare <em>sliced </em>through the window of the front door. Yet another argument developed after that. </p><p>Another thing he witnessed was drugs. Now, to be fair, Keith was only experimenting with weed. One of his boyfriends got it for him as a gift since he shared that he was stressing from college applications. He decided to light a thin blunt up in his room. He thought it wasn't too much, just enough to get a feel for it, and he also assumed that it wouldn't stink as much. But little did he know, Shiro had an <em> excellent </em>  nose or  <em> good-ass  </em>hearing. Probably both, to be honest.</p><p>Keith barely even got one puff in when the door <em>slammed </em>open, nearly busting a hole in the wall from the fucking copious amounts of <em>g-force strength </em>that Shiro possessed in a single arm. </p><p>
  <em> "What is that?" </em>
</p><p> </p><p>"Weed."</p><p> </p><p>........</p><p> </p><p>"Hand it over."</p><p>"No! It's mine!" </p><p>
  <em> "Keith." </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Surprisingly, he never took Keith's weed. People would usually think that he would win in a fight with his little brother, but that wasn't true. Because he never, <em>ever</em> laid a hand on his brother. Hell, Shiro didn't even <em>think </em>of doing it, which was probably how Keith won every single time. How he got away with so much shit. Shiro could've told his parents, but he never did. Shiro could've physically forced him to stop whatever he was doing, but he never did. Shiro could've argued with him for weeks, ignored him, fucking <em>left </em>him for all the shit, but he never did. </p><p>Because he loved his little brother, and he didn't have the heart to "discipline" him. He was never good at it, and he never enjoyed yelling at Keith about what he was doing was wrong, <em>especially </em>when he was a kid. That was a time when it would always end in tears, even if Keith deserved to be scolded, it was still heartbreaking for Shiro. </p><p> </p><p>He never wanted to hurt his little brother. </p><p> </p><p>So where was he? </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Shiro and weed.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. A Kitten</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>What should they name her?</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Keith remembered waiting a day. A full, entire day for him and still nothing. No phone call, no texts, not even an email. No notes left behind, no clues as to where he could be. Keith turned to his parents who had no clue, only rising great concern among them. Then he turned to his partner, Adam, who only said that he was on his way to his class that day. </p><p> </p><p>But he didn't return. </p><p> </p><p>Filing a missing person's report was nerve-wracking, especially with both Shiro's parents and his boyfriend Adam. Which was awkward, to say the least... They didn't particularly like Adam. In fact, they blamed it all on him the second they got back to Keith's shared apartment. </p><p> </p><p>But Keith knew that he had absolutely nothing to do with it. </p><p> </p><p>Adam was a great partner for Shiro. He was honest, but Shiro would say blunt, or harsh when it came to words. He gave it how it was no matter how much it hurt the other person, which Keith respected. When he was first introduced to him, he already knew he was going to be a "problem." Looking back on it, he wasn't an asshole. He was just stubborn. Adam was doing what Shiro hated doing. </p><p>Putting his foot down. </p><p>At first, Keith hated that he even had a say in what he was doing. Which, he thought pretty valid, considering they had only just met. But, Adam knew a lot about him from Shiro, knew how he was also just as equally headstrong, if not, more. </p><p>But he also told him about his "issues." Which was probably the biggest betrayal that he had ever felt. But, again, looking back on it, he was only sharing his concerns with someone he trusted. He was worried. </p><p>And Keith didn't listen. </p><p>So that was where Adam came in, his words were as rough as sandpaper. He told him every one of his older brother's concerns and somehow it got through Keith's thick skull... He was probably annoyed and just wanted to shut him up, but the point was that it worked. </p><p>And when he finally apologized to Shiro, he was gone the next day. </p><p> </p><p>And then the next day... and then the next day. Days turned to months and no sign whatsoever from the police. </p><p> </p><p>Keith was alone. Sure, he had Shiro's parents, but they left him with Shiro's apartment. They pitched in and helped with rent, bills, gas, etcetera. Sometimes Keith wondered if they were only doing it just in case Shiro would come back... No, that was what they were doing. And Keith thought they had every right to hope. Adam helped as well, texting or calling Keith as much as he could, which was pretty seldom, but it still gave Keith something to look forward to. </p><p>Something that would definitely happen... </p><p>But he... didn't know how to feel about it all. With Shiro, he had someone he could rely on, count on, and talk to. Someone that Keith called family, something that he lost long before. And to lose it all over again was heartbreaking. </p><p>His job became much more important. It became something that he <em>depended </em>on, and he <em>knew</em> that wasn't a good thing. He didn't want to depend on a job that wasn't stable. Things changed all the time, <em>people </em>did. But he had to make it work because it was the only thing he had that gave him <em>more. </em>  If he played his cards right, it gave him <em>more</em> than what he asked for. </p><p>That was probably how Keith got so good at it, camouflaging while using some magic charisma to support himself. </p><p>But was he really supporting himself? </p><p>No... He technically wasn't. Keith didn't share anything about his family with anyone that he associated with. He didn't want to use that to his advantage and he didn't want any pity pennies thrown at him. And while he refused to share anything about Shiro, he also wasn't deceptive... </p><p>All they knew about him was that he was a struggling college student that lived alone, could be a good date, and needed some aid in exchange. </p><p> </p><p>Well... he didn't live alone anymore. </p><p> </p><p>"So... Someone gave me their kitten?" </p><p>Keith could only stare in pure, utter confusion at Lance who was carrying a box with holes in it. It made some noise, bumps more like, with a few of the presumed tiny kitten's paws poking through. </p><p>He didn't know why he was surprised when he knew that he should've expected something else from Lance Mcclain. It was pretty late at night, right after Lance's shift at the Hotel. Keith made it routine, if he was there, to wait up until Lance got home for obvious reasons. He didn't mind it since he was pretty much a night owl from what he did anyway. Sometimes he'd attempt to try and heat some of the food that Lance made prior just to make his welcome home just a little bit better. </p><p>He found out that Lance didn't really like staying up late. He didn't have to tell Keith for him to find out. A job like he had at the Hotel would drain anyone and quite possibly scar them from... what it was known for. Keith was no stranger to that place. A little ratty, but it was enough to get a good lay before things got heavier in the night with some of his younger dates. </p><p>But it seemed as though there were new kinds of freaks on that street, more than what Keith knew about anyway. After blinking a few times, he finally shut his laptop and turned fully towards his roommate, preparing for the story he was clearly desperate to tell. </p><p>Keith didn't even have to ask. </p><p>"I was walking back, and, um..." he said, setting the cardboard box down on the coffee table, wincing at the tape that was holding it together. Whoever the previous owner was didn't put much care into it. Like it was a last-minute giveaway. "...This guy came up to me with it, and he was like, 'you want a cat?'" </p><p>Keith internally laughed at what Lance's expression would look like at that moment but continued to listen while his roommate got a box cutter. "Now, I didn't really know what to say to that, and I didn't even get one word in before he just said, 'you look like you need a cat in your life. Here, here's a cat.' And then he walked off." </p><p>Lance shook his head in exasperation but his motions remained gentle as he cut open the box. He didn't want to harm the kitten. When it was finally opened, there was a beautiful black kitten, meowing up a storm in the center of the box. Their eyes were green, their small teeth sharp, and their paws slightly bigger than a quarter Keith guessed. </p><p>That night, Lance stayed by her side, giving them a warm water bottle with plenty of soft blankets to keep them warm. He let them rest, making sure that Kosmo wouldn't react weird, which of course, he didn't. He was only curious, coming over to try and sniff the kitten with wide blue eyes. </p><p> </p><p>The next morning, they took them to the vet. </p><p> </p><p>That same morning, Lance adopted her. He knew he didn't have to, but Keith could tell the moment he laid his eyes on the kitten that he would want to keep her. He even tried playing off like she was wasn't, saying that she might have a chip or something (even though she was very, very young and had no potential for being chipped at all). Or, he would try and say that Keith more than likely wouldn't like her. </p><p>Which wasn't true at all. Keith liked dogs, obviously. But he didn't have a problem with cats either. Shiro's parents used to have one and it practically grew up with him until old age overtook him. He knew kittens and had some knowledge of how to take care of them, but that didn't mean that he was an expert. He still wanted to do his research.</p><p>But, it seemed as though Lance was already on it. He kept saying that he "didn't want to mess up," which Keith couldn't see as something that was even possible. Lance was very... comforting? He was a good caretaker with Kosmo, so Keith didn't know why he expected anything different when it came to the kitten. But he was a natural with her, dutifully feeding her with the bottle the vet gave him the number of times told. Gently cleaning the kitten and making sure to keep her warm. </p><p>At first, Lance was worried that getting pet stuff would cost too much for them when he could barely afford to pay for fresh groceries and good meals just on his Hotel wage alone. That made Keith realize that... he wasn't contributing as much as he should've. Eating actual healthy food as a college student wasn't common. At least, in his school, it wasn't. </p><p> </p><p>"Keith, you really don't have to..." Lance said over the phone. Keith was pushing a shopping cart, his eyes drifting over all the produce in confusion. Sure, he may have cooked with Lance and had a decent idea of what he got for<em> some </em>recipes, but he still needed help on the specifics. </p><p>It was probably his fault that he was in such a situation when he just up and left one morning intending to buy groceries without a fucking list. </p><p>Where was his head? </p><p>"No, it's not a big deal. I just need you to tell me what we need for this week." </p><p>"But, that would mean–" </p><p>"Yes, I would be paying for it, which is fine, I promise," Keith said, trying to reassure him. Sometimes he wondered why Lance was so worried since they've lived together for more than a month. They've grown more comfortable. Well... "Comfortable" meaning arguments almost every day about absolutely nothing in particular, but it was just<em> what they did. </em>But there were times where it wasn't the playful remarks and just talks about interests, which was also nice. </p><p> </p><p>Reluctantly, Lance texted a list of what he needed, and after gathering everything into his cart Keith realized that there wasn't as much as he normally got. Even so, he smiled fondly, grabbing some more things to "fill in the gaps." </p><p>He found the line that Adam worked in, his eyes widening behind his bifocals at the sight of Keith<em> shopping. </em>"Wow... The world must be ending," he monotonously said. "Have you finally decided that pizza could only get you so far?" </p><p>Keith shook his head, feigning annoyance, "Please... I got a roommate. That's the only reason."</p><p>"Oh? You know, you could at least try and text me some more so that you can update me on this kinda shit," he replied while scanning each item that Keith loaded onto the belt. </p><p>"I don't know... Just didn't come up."</p><p>"Nah, it's cool. Just miss talking shit with you." Keith stuck his card in while he continued, "Anywho... who's the lucky fellow?"</p><p>"You wouldn't know them." </p><p>Adam smirked. "Lance, right?" </p><p>Keith frowned and took his card back after paying. "How–?"</p><p>"Met him. He seemed new here and out of place from the regular joe-schmo." </p><p>"This isn't a small town, Adam..." Keith said, rolling his eyes. He never understood that kind of shit. It was a city, it wasn't some town where everyone knew everyone, so Adam saying that stuff made no sense to Keith. "Anyway, I'll see you later." He stuffed everything into the bag that Lance normally used and turned to leave. </p><p>"You leave so quickly."</p><p>"Yeah. Bye." </p><p>"Keith." </p><p>He groaned and finally faced Adam once again, "What?" </p><p>"Just... Can you make sure to <em>at least</em> not leave me on read? You know, so I know you're still alive?" </p><p>"Sure..." </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading. I will add more tags as I go along with this story, and I might even change the rating. I couldn't think of where it was going when writing the first chapter, but we'll see.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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